


Never Catch Us

by riverwood



Category: Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - Mark Twain, Adventures of Tom Sawyer - Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon Era, Civil War, Confederate Army, Drug Use, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Minor Huck/Becky, Minor Tom/Becky, Murder, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racist Language, Sexist Language, Sexual Assault, Sexual Content, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-07 21:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 46,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverwood/pseuds/riverwood
Summary: No one expected everything in the Widow Douglas's will to go to the boy she took in some years ago. Scruffy in nature, a 17-year-old Huckleberry Finn wants nothing more than to be rid of his fortune and float away from St. Petersburg for good, but there's one reason he stays; Tom Sawyer.





	1. Rich Boy Huck Finn

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I've borrowed some characters from the Tom Sawyer anime, so if you don't recognize them from Twain's books thats why. I will explain who they are in the story and in the notes if they are from the anime. For instance, Doctor Mitchell is from the anime and Tom's cousin Mary works for him.

The air was hot, brows were wet, and minds were exhausted. The St. Petersburg sun beat down on the townhall with fists of heat on the summer day. Every adult in the room perspired and fanned themselves off with their handkerchiefs, but let on with the town meeting nonetheless. It wasn’t unusual, Missouri tended to get unbearably hot in the summer, but being cooped up in a town meeting in a small packed room was too much to ask for.

“Judge Thatcher,” Miss Harper spoke,” surely we can reschedule, it’s so uncomfortable”.

The old man sitting at the front of the table simply chuckled. Despite the panting and sweating of everyone else in the room, Judge Thatcher looked as comfortable and calm as ever. How he was able to pull it off, nobody could tell, though it was most likely a façade to make himself look professional.

“Nonsense, we will continue and finish up todays discussion,” he said with a smile.

“Now,” the judge continued,” all of you have submitted suggestions for our dear town, which I am much appreciative of. We all strive for the best for our community”.

“To start, let’s begin with Mr. Dobbins. Go on ahead, sir”.

The man sitting beside Miss Harper sat up straight and adjusted the glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. He was a middle-aged man, with a graying brown mustache and a thinning head of white. Tall and lanky with eyes that pierced, everyone knew that Mr. Dobbins tolerated nothing.

Finally, he spoke up in his tired voice,” the schools are underfunded. Or classrooms are filled to the brim, and children are forced to share books and chalk boards. Now, it’s not that I care whether or not my students are comfortable or not- “

“Mr. Dobbins, please”.

“Right, sorry judge,” Mr. Dobbins cleared his throat and continued,” as I was saying, we are short on supplies. It is affecting my teaching and the students learning. If theirs anything our tax dollars should be directed towards it should be the education of the next generation”.

“What if some of us don’t have children?” an older woman spoke up from the back of the room,” why should my tax dollars be spent towards children who have no concern with me?”

“If that’s the case,” Mr. Dobbins glare pierced through the room like a dagger,” be prepared to leave our country in the hands of a bunch of bumbling fools because you didn’t care enough about their education”.

Judge Thatcher took off his shoe and slammed it on the table, interrupting the debate he had the misfortune of just watching,” Mr. Dobbins, do not make me stop you again”.

“Right,” the teacher rested his elbows on the table,” but to conclude, our town needs to direct its focus on the education of our youth”.

“If anything,” the towns folk looked back to see the origin of the voice, a fuller man by the name of Mr. Rogers,” our tax dollars should go into local businesses, like my general store”.

“Ah, Mr. Rogers, I was just about to refer to you,” Judge Thatcher nodded and pushed his glasses as he spoke,” go on, speak your matter”.

“Thank you, judge,” Mr. Rogers put his hands on his belly and cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse when he began.

“Everyone in this room attends my store for their everyday goods, which I thank you all for. However, my building is old, as is the tailor shop, as is the black smiths workshop, and as is so many of our local businesses. We are a small town, but instead of importing materials and food from St. Louis because of our shabby businesses, you support the townsfolk”.

All the townsfolk in the room looked around for permission to nod and soon collectively agreed, all except for Mr. Dobbins who scowled at the younger man.

“Education is still more important than business,” the teacher argued.

“Aw c’mon old man, Mr. Rogers should be gettin’ a new store,” a young, boyish voice spoke from the corner of the room,” heck, he’d got the best fishin’ hooks in all of Missouri!”

Every head turned to where the voice was coming from, a collective grimace on each one of their faces. The chair the voice sat in should’ve belonged to the old Widow Douglas, the rich woman who helped out every aspect of the town. However, instead of the well known and loved woman was a young man taking off his shoes and picking at the dirt under his toenails. While every body else in the room was well in their adult years, the boy couldn’t have been more than seventeen years old, the boyish glint in his dark blue eyes still prevalent behind his dark shaggy bangs. A ragamuffin at its best.

Huckleberry Finn looked around and raised his eyebrows at those who glared at him, simply shrugging them off and pulling at the tight clothes the servants decked him in earlier that day. He gave Mr. Rogers a nod to keep going, but the man looked down and ignored him, seemingly done with his speech.

“Ah yes…Huckleberry Finn,” Judge Thatcher sighed and tapped his fingers against the wooden table,” I forgot you are taking Miss Douglas’s place from now on”.

“That I am, sir”.

“And I see you- Huck,” the old man put eyes in annoyance,” put your shoes back on”.

Huck groaned, but shoved his feet back in the leather confines nonetheless.

“As I was saying, I’ve seen you left a comment as well. Is that right?”

“Yup”.

“Except that all you’ve said was…’fishin’”, Judge Thatcher sighed in frustration and chuckled erupted around the room,” which you spelt wrong, by the way”.

“No, I didn’t,” Huck protested,” I spelt it F-I-S-H-I-N. That’s how you say it and that’s how you spell it”.

“Huck, it’s spelled F-I-S-H-I-N-G. It has a G at the end”.

“Why would there be a G at the end? It’s not pronounced ‘fishinguh’, that ain’t make no sense- oh forget it”, Huck waved his hand and dismissed the whole argument,” but yes, I am concerned with the town’s fishin’”.

“Care to explain?” Judge Thatcher asked.

“Most of the Widow’s money came from her family fortune, she and Miss Watson had a rich family,” Huck said,” but the Widow’s late husband ran the fishing ex-po-di-tion,” he annunciated the word so he could get it right, “and the Widow took control after his death. Now I’m in control, I guess, and I think the fishingmen should have better boats”.

“That’s your job to take care of, son”.

“I don’t own the boats, you do,” Huck retorted,” and they are as older than you are, old man. Those girls can barely leave the docks without sproutin’ a leak. I’d like better boats”.

Judge Thatcher and ever other adult raised their eyebrows at the boy, unsure whether or not to take him seriously. He was a rapscallion turned heir, how were they supposed to react?

“Honestly,” the voice of Doctor Mitchell piped up from beside Mr. Rogers,” Miss Douglas was much more professional than this delinquent is”.

“Doc,” the judge warned,” now is not the time. Huckleberry is in fact the heir, and he will be taking over for Miss Douglas. May her soul rest in peace”.

“This child does not belong here!” the doctor argued back, getting more and more frustrated,” he’s a dirty, motherless- “

“If I have to repeat myself, I will remove you from this town meeting!” No one dared speak while the judge was going off on the doctor, “he is here from now on, so that is that!”

The room lay still and dead silent as Judge Thatcher sat back down in his chair with a huff, dabbing his forehead with his handkerchief. All eyes were going back to the judge, then to the doctor, and then back to Huck, who looked beyond uncomfortable. A pin could drop and everyone could hear it.

“Alright,” Judge Thatcher sighed out,” due to the success of our recent harvest festival last month, our town profits are able to appeal to one of your needs. We will have to vote, though”.

Huck sat back and watched as the adults in the room decided where the tax money should be headed to, his arms folded across his chest as he wanted to sink into himself. The room had his head swimming with anxiety and annoyance. Every ounce of wanted to get the hell out. Eventually the matter was settled, with Mr. Dobbins being the victor, and all the attendants were relieved to finally get out and enjoy the rest of the sunny day. The most relieved out of everyone was Huck, who almost sprinted to the door until Judge Thatcher caught him by the shoulder.

“Not so fast, boy,” the old man chuckled,” I need to talk to you”.

Huck growned and threw his head back,” am I in trouble?”

“No, no, not at all,” Judge Thatcher patted him on the shoulder and sighed,” just wanted to know how you enjoyed your first meeting”.

“I ain’t fit for it”.

“Hm?”

“I said I ain’t fit for it,” Huck repeated himself, annoyed,” the widow wanted me to carry this stuff out, but it just ain’t me. You heard the folks in there, they don’t like me”.

“Give it time, it’s your age. You’ll come around,” Judge Thatcher gave Huck a smile,” my daughter has been coming around recently. She’s your age, y’know”.

“Yeah, Bessie- Becky, I mean. I know her”.

“She’s working with Doctor Mitchell’s now, ain’t that nice?” the judge said,” I believe, despite how you are, that you’ll be like my daughter. That you’ll come around and take your responsibilities”.

Huck rolled his eyes and made his way towards the door,” fat chance, old man”.

Before leaving, Huck turned his head and left one last word.

“We can all agree that the widow deserved to adopt a better son, one that was fit for this job”.

* * *

 

“Master Huckleberry,” a young servant girl called from behind the young man,” would you like anything to eat”.

Huck sighed,” I told you, you ain’t gotta call me master, for Pete’s sake. And I don’t need anything, Margaret”.

“Oh, is it Master Huckleberry now?”

Huck turned to face the voice’s origin, only to smirk at the young man he faced. Leaning against his bedroom doorway was that face of someone he’d known for years, one with messy russet hair and sun-kissed freckles from hours of being in the sun. The face of pure boyish nature.

“Who the hell let you in?” Huck joked and tried to untie his shoes, with great difficulty, that is.

“Your butler did. Ah, it’s fun just to even say,” Tom Sawyer joked and threw his head back laughing,” Huck Finn’s _butler!_ Oh sorry, I mean Master Huckleberry”.

“Will you quit callin’ me master? It’s weird,” Huck groaned,” if you want to be useful can you help me take off these damn shoes?”

Tom nodded and knelt down to Huck’s feet,” why did you tie them so tight? I can barely get these off”.

“I didn’t, Margaret did”.

“Your servant even ties your own shoes?”

“It’s not like I want her too!” Huck let out an exasperated breath and fell back onto the bed,” but she insists every damn time! When the widow was around they only bothered with her and Miss Watson, but since their gone it’s as if they ain’t got nothin’ better to do than to bug me”.

“To be fair, it is their job, Huck”.

“Shouldn’t be. No one should be passed down through a dead woman’s will, it ain’t right”.

“It ain’t but that’s how it works”.

“Doesn’t justify it,” Huck grumbled and sat up,” but at least I pay ‘em. Some folks don’t”.

“I know, Huck, I know”.

“Why’d you come by anyway?” Huck asked,” I thought you was working at the docks today”.

“We got off early, and since today was the first town meeting since the widows passin’ and you takin’ over, I wanted to see how you did,” Tom smiled and put his hands on his hips,” can’t a friend care?”

Huck shyly smiled,” yeah, he can”.

“So, tell me. How did it go?”

“I ain’t never been in a room with so many uptight adults who so clearly hated the ground I walked on. Tom, they’s all ornery old watchdogs, I tell ya,” Huck looked as if he might punch a hole in the wall,” I swear, every time I open my mouth to propose something it’s as if I slapped someone’s mother and kissed their father!”

Tom scratched the back of his neck and tried to find his words,” that sounds…intense”.

“It is, and then to top it all off Judge Thatcher thinks he has the right to tell me what sort of person I should be, sayin’ I’ll grow up and ‘accept my responsibilities. I nearly died of annoyance, Tom”.

“They only happen once a month, I’m sure you can handle it,” Tom argued.

“Maybe I can, maybe I can’t,” Huck sighed ran a hand through his hair,” it’d be better if I could work on the docks with you”.

“It ain’t a great job, trust me,” Tom said,” I’d much rather be piloting those steam boats than loadin’ ‘em up”.

“Why don’t you then?”

“You know that takes a heck of a lot of training,” Tom jammed his fists in his pockets and let out an exasperated breath,” and besides, I can’t leave you and my family, ‘specially with those nasty colds Aunt Polly has been getting’s recently. The woman can’t go a minute without coughing! Once she’s well, though, I might just get on one of those boats and sail away?”

“Didn’t you just say you wouldn’t leave me,” Huck argued, putting his hands on his hips,” what kind of friend are you, leaving me to suffer the life of wealth by myself?”

“You could come with me! Oh, think of it Huck! The two of us could sail down the waters in a steam boat together,” Tom’s voice was filled with excitement and boyish anticipation,” we would see all the cities, and we could catch ourselves some beautiful girls”.

Huck rolled his eyes and chuckled,” that’s what’s on your mind? Girls?”

“Are you trying to tell me that Huck Finn doesn’t think about girls”.

“It happens to be the last thing on my mind, Tom”.

“That’ll change soon, Hucky,” Tom grinned, and without warning, jumped on top of Huck’s bed and stood valiantly above the room,” when you and me are on the high seas, women will throw themselves at us!”

Huck simply laughed at his friend,” keep dreamin’”.

“Even if we don’t score any princesses or damsels, can you imagine the adventures we’d have together on the river?” Tom knelt down to Huck’s level and placed his hands on his shoulders, his eyes full of glee,” just the two of us against the world”.

“It would be nice,” Huck agreed,” to get away from this life”.

Tom’s grin almost reached his ears as he wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder,” Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, together forever”.

Huck smiled and simply repeated.

“Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, together forever”.

 


	2. It's a Boys War

Tom Sawyer left Douglas Manor (or perhaps _Finn Manor_ now), soon afterwards and stood outside the mansion for a moment. He never really liked the way it was built, with the extra columns and exterior designs seemingly just to show off how rich the family was. Tom thought it was completely unnecessary, and he had a guess that Huck thought so, too.

It was clear to Tom and everyone else that Huck Finn was a sore thumb among the rich folk, and even if it was his responsibility now, he hated it as much as everyone else hated him. Tom could just hear the discomfort in his best friends voice. He could see the resentment and melancholy dulling his eyes. It was almost sickening for him to watch.

The sun was still high on the sky and beating down on the town, much to Tom’s discomfort. A day like this when he was younger was glorious, the entire day dedicated to swinging swords, robbing ships, and saving princesses was all he could ever ask for. It was all any of them could ask for, yet with their aging selves and the bearing responsibilities of adulthood, it was no longer an option. Joe Harper was to busy at the docks to even entertain the thought of play, as well as Ben Rogers, and god forbid he ever ask Alfred Temple to amuse him. Age has reduced them to working machines, even if the glint of youth still shone in their eyes.

The only person who he could think of that could possibly entertain him was the pretty girl working at the town doctors office.

Doctor Mitchell’s office sat in the center of the town square, open to everyone of the citizens of St. Petersburg. It was a quaint clinic with no outstanding features, but it did it's job. Now that he was the only doctor in town, everyday the clinic had patients in and out it's old doors. Tom never liked going to the clinic, going at every length to avoid a visit, but now the doctor's office had other purposes.

The inside was just as quant as the outside, with wooden floors and walls with the only thing decking the walls being a crucifix and a caduceus. Walking in, Tom was immediately hit with the smell of soap and cough syrup, something he very much despised. Something he didn’t despise, however, was the sweet young voice emerging from the back room.

“Sorry sir, the doctor just left to run some errands, if you’d like to wait you can-,” the young girl looked up from closing the door, only for her shoulders to relax and her lips to twitch up ,”oh, Tom. It’s you”.

“Good afternoon, Becky,” Tom tipped his hat to her in a gentleman like manner.

“If you’re hear to see your cousin Mary she’s in the backroom-”.

“Actually, I came to see you,” the young man said with a grin ,”I wanted to see how you’re doing with your new job as a nurse”.

Becky blushed bashfully ,”you didn’t have to check up on me”.

“I wanted to. Now tell me, what’s it like?”

“Harder than I imagined,” she sighed and ran a hand through her strawberry blond hair ,”I like it, I like helpin’ people, but it’s more work than I thought”.

“Is Mary helpin’ you?” Tom asked.

“Oh yes, she’s been a big help, and Doc Mitchell’s has been more than kind to me, I just wish I was as good as them already”.

“It takes time, you need practice to get better,” Tom smirked and leaned forward in his chair ,”here, practice on me”.

“What?”

“Practice on me, give me a check up”.

Becky thought for a moment, her cheeks glowing with a pink rouge, but nodded nonetheless. She reached over the counter to grab gloves and the necessary tools, making her look like she was an actual nurse. Tom hated check ups, and he hated most people touching him, but Becky was a sweetheart who his heart was soft for.

“Say ‘ah’”, Becky instructed and placed the popsicle stick on the young man's tongue.

“Aaah”, Tom obliged and let her do the required procedure. She massaged his throat to see if their were any signs of mumps, something Tom definitely did _not_ want to have. She continued to feel his heartbeat and instruct him when to breathe in and when to breathe out, all while Tom complained that her hands were cold. Lastly, she hit his knee with a small hammer that Doc Mitchell had used on him before, causing his leg to kick up and hit Becky’s shin.

“Sorry ‘bout that”, he apologized as Becky smoothed out her dress.

“It’s fine,” the young woman smiled ,”that was my first time doin’ a check up, actually”.

“Well I think you did a fine job, ‘cept you touchin’ me wasn’t much fun”.

Tom could see Becky’s eyes light up when their gazes met, and saw how her cheeks warmed at the sight of his smile. It seemed she was going to reach into him and rap his being around her, until the back door swung open and a red headed woman stepped through.

“Hi Mary,” Tom waved to his cousin as Becky stepped away from him.

“Oh, Tom,” Mary Sawyer smiled and nodded ,”you ain’t got work today, do you?”

“No siree, I got the day off”.

“Good, then I need to ask a favor of you,” she said ,”go take care of mother at home. She still ain’t feeling better from that cold”.

Tom immediately objected with folded arms ,”ain’t Sid takin’ care of her today?”

“Sid has to study if he wants to go to college like he says,” Mary scowled ,”go home and take care of mother, and no complainin’”.

Mary turned to Becky and her expression changed from hard and scolding to sweet and gentle ,”Becky, why don’t you take the rest of the day off? It’s a slow day, and I can handle everything myself”.

“Are you sure, Mary?” Becky asked, concerned ,”I wouldn’t want to leave you here to work all alone”.

“I’ll be fine,” the woman nodded and grinned ,”Tom can walk you home”.

“Tom can speak for himself,” the young man grumbled under his breath, but Mary still caught wind of his words.

“Tom can zip his lips and be a nice young man and do what he’s told!” Mary warned, eventually laughing to herself as Tom sped out the doors with Becky as if he was expecting to be soon tortured.

* * *

 

The two walked along the dirt roads together, shoulder to shoulder and steps in sync. Words weren’t spoken much at first, only Tom’s whistles filling the air. It was silent, and to Becky, not a comfortable silent.

Becky wanted more than this. She wanted Tom to grab her hand and have him tell her sweet nothings, but his eyes stayed fixed on the path. What once was faded into an on and off relationship that did nothing but toy around with her emotions and make her heart ache. She thought maybe her heart was still twelve. Maybe her mind still lived in her childhood where a budding relationship dwelled. Maybe she was holding onto something that should’ve been let go.

But the way Tom smiled at her made her mind do flips and made her second guess everything. Perhaps she could still feel a red string that attached them, and maybe it was strong enough to men. Just maybe.

“So,” Becky was sick and tired of the silence and wanted to start a conversation ,”did you speak with Huckleberry today?”

Tom seemed surprised at the question, but answered nonetheless ,”yeah, I always see him. Why?”

“It’s just that I heard today was his first town meeting, and my daddy stopped by to talk ‘bout it”.

“You tellin’ me your daddy be talkin’ smack about Huck?”

“What? No, no. He said that Huckleberry has a lot of potential to be a town leader”.

“Oh,” was all Tom managed to say.

“Your daddy talk to you a lot about current events?” the young man asked, seemingly trying to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Becky pushed her hair behind her ear and sighed ,”I more listen in on what he’s saying. He doesn’t like me knowing about most important stuff”.

“So he lets you know about Huck because Huck’s not important?”

“Why you gettin’ so defensive about Huckleberry?” Becky questioned, to which she got silence in response ,”I meant he doesn’t tell me big news, but I listen in and learn anyways”.

“What kind of big news?” Tom asked, not having to pretend to be interested anymore.

“War”.

Tom’s face fell from excitement to deep in thought. Becky could tell he was expecting something much more grand and exciting, not something that seemed to be taking their boys away from their town day after day.

“Don’t listen in on that stuff, Becky,” he said shortly ,”a girl shouldn’t involve herself in such topics like war and fightin’”.

“Daddy’s been talkin’ a lot about it with a lot of people”.

“I’m sure he has,” Tom said and kicked the dirt underneath his feet ,”he’s an important man, after all”.

“What do you think of the war, Tom?”

“What do I think?” he asked incredulously ,”why, I don’t know, I don’t reckon I’m fightin’ in it”.

“Do you think its a right war?”

“Is any war right Becky?”

“Tom, stop being so difficult!” Becky huffed out in annoyance ,”what I mean is do you agree with the war or not?”

“What’s there to agree on?” Tom shot back ,”they’re callin’ it a ‘boy's war’. Can’t be to great if that’s it’s name?”

Becky blinked in confusion, only to have her expression soften ,”you don’t know, do you?”

“What do I not know that you do?”

“Northerners wantin’ a stronger government, despite all of us bein’ mostly farmers. Tom, it’s takin’ away our _property_. Our rights”, Becky tried to explain what she heard her father say the best she could ,”that’s we we are fightin’”.

“My daddy calls for independence,” she continued ,”he says it’s what’s best”.

“Maybe,” was all Tom seemed to think of to say. With that, they were back to deafening silence.

Becky didn’t notice they were at her house until Tom gave her a kiss on the hand goodbye and made his way to the Sawyer household, leaving her to watch him get smaller and smaller in the distance. She stared on until all that was left was a dot of russet hair, and then he was gone.

* * *

 

“Tom, is that you,” a meek woman’s voice called out from the kitchen ,”close the door, it’s too dang humid out there”.

Tom creeped through the kitchen doorway and was met with his aunt sitting at the far end of the table, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a cup of tea clutched in her hands. Aunt Polly’s plump face was pale and blotched red with congestion, a clear stuffy nose plaguing her. Before Tom could say a word to her, she began coughing to the point that even Tom’s throat begin hurting just from hearing it.

“Aunt Polly,” Tom let out a breath and sat down at the table with her ,”you should be in bed”.

“I’m doing fine, don’t tell me to stay in bed all day, I can’t handle it,” Aunt Polly’s voice sounded congested and hoarse.

“But if you’re sick-”

“I said I’m fine, Thomas, now hush up!” she scorned, only to fall into another coughing fit. Tom was concerned this time she might actually hack up her lungs.

“Anyways, did you hear anything about the town meeting?” the older woman asked ,”I’m devastated I had to miss it”.

“From what I’ve heard not much happened, ‘cept Huck was there”.

Aunt Polly glared at the sound of Tom’s friends name. Huck Finn was a name not to be spoken around her, or most any other adult in the town, for that matter.

“Probably made a joke of the entire meeting,” Aunt Polly said angrily ,”a boy like him doesn’t belong at such events. I’ll never understand why the widow let _him_ take her place”.

“And you’re old enough to know not to concern yourself with him ,”she scowled, a look of disapproval in her eyes ,”I don’t care if he’s turned to wearing shoes and reading now, a ragamuffin then and a ragamuffin now!”

If it was anyone else, Tom wouldn’t hesitate to punch their face in without a moment's notice, but this was his aunt, the woman who raised him. If there was one thing Tom wouldn’t do, it was fight his sick aunt.

“Maybe I will go lie down,” Aunt Polly finally gave in ,”my head is pounding”.

“Rest yourself up,” Tom told her as she hid away into her dark room, shutting the door without a word back.

The more Tom thought about what his aunt said about Huck, as well as what Becky said, the more annoyed he became. It wasn’t like he hasn’t heard anyone badmouth Huck Finn, in fact it was quite common, but Tom never got over it. Every time he came across someone’s disapproval of his best friend he was ready to knock heads in.

When Tom looked at Huck, sometimes he didn’t see the best friend he cherishes. Sometimes he sees a puppy that’s been kicked and left out in the ran too many times. A puppy that Tom just wants to wrap into a blanket and take him inside to the warmth.

Tom didn’t know what made him feel this way, but he buried it down. He buried it deep down like every other bottled up emotion that he’s locked away from the surface. That was just the way of Tom Sawyer. Bottle it up so no one can see but yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took waaaaay longer than expected, I'm so sorry! If I'm ever late to an update (I'm trying to do weekly) please don't think I'm being lazy or slacking off, 99.9% of the time I'm swamped with school work.  
> This week was hectic because January 25 was my birthday (I'm 16!!) and I had family and friends over, and then I had a few tests in school, and then I had theatre rehearsal. It was just hectic, so I apologize for the wait!
> 
> Also side note: most southerners believed what Becky was saying. I researched a lot before writing this so I could make it historically accurate.
> 
> I really hoped you guys enjoyed, and I hope you have a great day!


	3. Smokin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Marijuana  
> Also note to self: STOP PROCRASTINATING!

Loading up steam boats was never ideal to anyone, especially Tom Sawyer. The young man dreamed of being on steamboats, not watching them from afar and doing their work for them. It was no adventure, but Tom went on with his job. A paycheck was a paycheck, after all, and the Sawyer household needed all the money they could get, what with Aunt Polly being out of commission.

Tom was a poor man working a poor man's job.

If anything, Tom thought Joe Harper had a much more exciting job. He was a real life fisherman, something Tom (and Huck, he thought) would’ve given all their lose pennies for. Whenever the steam boats docked and the fishermen began loading off their fresh catches, Tom didn’t know whether to greet his close friend or to avoid him out of jealousy. For the most part, the latter one.

“It ain’t the fishin’ that you’re used to, Tom,” Joe countered, clearly annoyed with the silent treatment he was receiving ,”it’s actual work”.

“Fishin’ ain’t work, it’s fun,” Tom argued right back ,”what I do is work”.

“What you do is easy”.

“What  _ you  _ do is easy, and not work!”

“Whatever you say, Tom,”Joe sighed and bit into the apple Tom had snatched for him. The apple Tom definitely didn’t pay for, no matter how much he said he did.

“At least your boss knows what he’s doin’” Joe said and wiped his mouth ,”mine hasn’t got a single damn clue”.

“...are you talking about Huck?”

“Yeah, I am”.

“He’s trying, alright?” Tom did his best to defend his friend ,”he’s never had any experience and now he has to take over an entire estate and business. It ain’t easy for him”.

Joe rolled his eyes “yeah, I’m sure having a lot of money now ain’t easy”.

“Joe Harper, I’ll kick your ass if you keep talkin’’ like that-”

“What I mean is,” Joe cut him off, not wanting to hear Tom go off on insults ,”Huck needs to learn how to be a proper businessman”.

“I’m sure it’s harder than it looks, though”.

“Know what’s hard? Trying to get a point across to you, Tom”.

“Whatever”.

“Yeah, whatever,” Joe sighed and cracked his neck, craning to see the river ahead of him.

That was something Tom liked about Joe; they could argue and all would be right in the end. If Alfed Temple ever crossed him again he would whip him to the Missouri border and back, or if Ben Roger insulted him or his kin the friendship might end on the spot. But Joe was different. The two could disagree and debate all they wanted, and the friendship remained unharmed. Tom liked it, he thought it was refreshing.

“I do gotta tell you somethin’ though”, he said in the silence ,’somethin’ important, Tom”.

“Well then say it, don’t keep me waitin’”.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be a fisherman for long”.

Tom sat up with crossed legs and nudged an elbow at his friend, a smirking painting his lips in a mischievous way, “are you plannin’ to give the job to me or somethin’?”

“I think I’m gonna…”

“Just say it, Joe!”

“I think I’m gonna join the army, Tom”.

Both could hear the steamboat sail off with exact precision, from the ropes that splashed the water to the baby aboard that cried in their mothers arms. The silence between them was suffocating, and Tom didn’t know how to react. A few weeks had passed since he last heard a word of the war and he was glad to be rid of it. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence that someone he cared about told him they were going to learn how to fire a gun in the hopes to possibly use it on someone. Tom never wanted to hear those words, he never wanted to see his friends go off without him. Playing Robin Hood was one thing, but fighting a war was something entirely different.

“...why?” Tom finally asked.

“Why what?”

“Why is everyone so interested in this damn war?,” he pulled at his russet hair in frustration ,”why is that all that everyone concerns themselves with? First Becky, now you, I can’t seem to escape it!”

Joe raised an eyebrow at his friend, to which Tom felt as if he was being mocked.

“It’s a big part of our lives right now,” Joe countered ,”it’s only natural to be involved”.

“Well, I don’t like it”.

“I expected you would, what with all them adventures you always wanted”.

“I doubt it’s the same, Joe,” Tom’s face scrunched up in frustration ,”I just don’t get why some of us  _ want  _ to fight”.

“My mama says it’s for political liberty, and the right to keep our property as farmers”.

“Your mama shouldn’t concern herself with war, that’s man’s talk”.

“Maybe, but she wants me to go”.

That was something Tom couldn’t wrap his head around. All he’s ever heard of was weeping mothers afraid to let their boys fight in any war as they frantically kissed their cheeks and begged them to stay their little boys forever. He never heard of parents actually encouraging their boys going to serve in a fight that wasn’t theirs.

Tom said nothing, however as he watched the clouds float by above his head. Somethings he just didn’t quite understand, and he could accept that. The young man knew everyone was different, even if he didn’t like it.

“Huck’s stopping by the docks, to survey all the fisherman,” Tom wanted to change the subject. Talk about the war made him confused and annoyed.

“Oh is he now?” Joe rolled his eyes ,”is he gonna do his job right?”

Tom held himself back from grabbing Joe by the shirt collar and hollering in his face for saying such cruel stuff about his friend, but he held himself back. Age had calmed Tom from the rambunctious violent child he was.

“Joe Harper, you talk as if you hate Huck Finn”.

“I don’t hate him, I like him just fine,” Joe defended himself ,”he just ain’t fit to be my boss or anyone's boss”.

“He ain’t, but he’s tryin’. Let him try, will ya? He doesn’t want this anymore than anyone else wants him to have the job”.

“I guess you’re right”.

“I’ll get going”, Joe continued as he heaved himself to his feet, leaving Tom still sitting in the dirt ,”my mama wants me to help take care of my daddy. He’s been awful sick with somethin’ recently”.

“Same with my, Aunt Polly”, Tom said without looking at him ,”so go on home, make sure he gets well”.

“I will. Goodbye, Tom Sawyer”.

“Bye, Joe,” Tom finally turned to face his friend to give him a smirk ,”and I’ll tell your favorite boss Huck what you said about him when I see him today”.

Joe didn’t stop, only threw his hand up and sent his middle finger flying up. Tom could only laugh as Joe called him a ‘gib-faced fool’ from afar, knowing every insult was empty and in good fun.

Tom thought someone as good-natured as Joe Harper didn’t belong in a war, a war that had nothing to do with any of them, a war that took more than it ever gave. He’s had a bullet to the leg, so he couldn’t understand why someone would sign up for something like that voluntarily.It just didn’t make sense to him.

He decided this was how Huck felt, not understanding most everything, and he didn’t like it. He wanted to know, he wanted to understand why everyone was so eager to sign up for this damn war. What made it so special? Why was it more important than 1812 or The Revolution?

But that was just Tom, wanting to be smarter than he actually was. It killed not to understand, it really did.

* * *

 

Huck didn’t expect work to involve this much, well  _ work. _

It wasn’t as if he as lazy, far from it. When Huck put his mind to something he wouldn’t stop until the task was done. Give him the tools necessary and he’ll build you a house. Give him a fishing pole and he’ll catch you dinner. Give him most any task and he’ll do his best.

But to Huck, this was flat out torture. Pacing up and down the St. Petersburg docks surveying his fishermen reeling in their catch (he thought it should be  _ him  _ doing the fishing) and recording the amount of bass that was being loaded in. Huck could admit he had little to no idea what he was doing. Numbers confused him, and still some written words confused him. He wasn’t embarrassed at this point, just flat out annoyed that the Widow Douglas actually believed he could take over her work. Huck was certain his servant girl Margaret could do a better job than him, and she only just learned how to brush her own hair.

The young man was contemplating throwing himself off the docks into the river until he felt a tap on his shoulder and someone blow on his ear, causing him to jump away. Huck was ready to get beat up by whoever approached him, but his shoulders relaxed and his heart steadied when he saw the familiar face of Tom Sawyer.

Tom smiled at him, showing off his slightly crooked teeth and dimples. Huck couldn’t tell why that smile made him melt, but it did. It did every time.

“Why hello there, Huck Finn”, Tom greeted as if he were some formal gentleman ,”what a lovely day to see you”.

“Hush it, Tom,” Huck rolled his eyes and grinned, punching him lightly in the shoulder.

“Anything interesting in your work life so far”.

“I ain’t even lookin’ to talkin’ about it, Tom, it’s hell”.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re doin’ fine”.

“Look at this!” Huck shoved the piece of papers towards his friend ,”how many people can say they had to count five hundred hogsheads of bass in less than two hours? Heck, their ain’t that much fish in the Mississippi to begin with, how is their so much!?”

“...you counted wrong, this says fifty hogsheads, Huck”.

“Still! Why, I never thought I’d live to the day that I’d be sayin’ that there is too much damn fishin’ for our small town! Too much for me to count, anyways”.

“But you’re finished, ain’t ya?” Tom asked ,”all the work is done for the day?”

“Yeah, I guess it is”.

“See, then you did it. All by yourself at that. A whole days worth of work is all done and the sun ain’t even set yet. I’d say you did right mighty good, Huck”.

“Y-yeah, I guess so”, Huck said bashfully, hiding the oncoming grin.

Why are you blushing, Huck thought to himself, why on earth are you blushing?

“Anyways,” Huck continued ,”why’d you stop by?”

“Can’t I just stop by to see my comrade?” Tom acted as if he was offended.

“You can, but it ain’t all that common a thing for someone to do”.

“Alright alright, I wanted to show you something,” Tom smirked and reached into his pocket.

What he brought out had a pungent smell that Huck immediately recognized from his years hanging around outside the bar. It was encased in a small brown pouch that Tom used for practically everything, even giving Huck his tooth back in the day. When Tom opened it up, Huck’s suspicions were confirmed as he looked upon the clump of green leaves inside.

It was cannabis.

“...where did you get this,” Huck was in complete awe, and didn’t know if he was impressed or concerned.

“Snatched it from Doc Mitchell’s when he warn’t lookin’” Tom winked at him and his triumphant grin grew ,”thought we could use it in that ole pipe of yours”.

Huck grinned and nodded, excited to try such a taboo practice. He wasn’t much for drinking, as he saw the effects of what it did to people all too well, but he was one for smoking. No one would take his pipe away from him, no matter how much they tried to civilize him. Though cannabis was something he was never able to get his hands on, as only doctors and thieves got their hands on it.

Thanks to them, Tom Sawyer had no problem being a thief.

The two made away the docks and headed towards the woods, where they knew know one would see them and sat together behind a big enough tree. Both were completely knew to this and had little to know idea what they were sing, but Huck knew tobacco quite well, and figured it couldn’t be much different.

Tom hit the pipe first, as he was the one to get the cannabis, and Huck laughed at him when he began coughing wildly as if he was trying to hack up his lungs.

“Don’t inhale so hard,” Huck brought the pipe to his lips and sucked in some, instructing Tom the proper way to smoke ,”you don’t need so much”.

“You ever done hashish, Huck?”

“Can’t say that I have, but it doesn’t seem different from the stuff I usually smoke”.

“Well aren’t you cool,” Tom joked and ushered him to pass the pipe so he could try again.

Huck ignored the comment and took one last hit before switching off again. About eight or nine hits between the two of them Huck could see Tom’s eyes turn a light shade of pink and feel his head seem weightless. It was an entirely new feeling, but Huck wasn’t too sure he liked it. He liked being in control, and not worrying about if he would walk right or say stuff he meant.

“You know,” Tom said in an airy voice ,”why don’t we live together?”

“Huh?”

“I said why don’t we live together? It’d be so-o much easier”.

“Is this your way of tryna mooch off my riches, Tom?”

“I don’t need your money, you poor rich boy,” Tom giggled at his joke ,”poor rich boy Huck Finn”.

Poor rich boy Huck Finn. It made the both of them laugh uncontrollably. There hadn’t been that much laughter in the air for such a long time that Huck had forgotten what it felt like. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed it.

“I like your laugh,” Tom said as he reached over and squeezed Huck’s side, causing him to squeal and push away ,”you should do it more often”.

Huck returned to the previous topic ,”I doubt we could live together ‘cause you got a family to love”.

“That I do, especially Aunt Polly and Sid”.

“Not Mary?”

“I love Mary, but she can take care of herself. Aunt Polly is gettin’ older and sicker by the day, and Sid’s still a kid in my eyes. They need me”.

“And besides,” Huck sighed and twirled the pipe in his hands ,”two boys can’t live together”.

“Are we not men yet?”

Huck thought about what made you a man and what made you a boy, but couldn’t figure it out, so he said two men couldn’t live together either.

“Dumb rule,” Tom grumbled.

“Most rules are dumb,” Huck agreed.

Tom began to chuckle, which then turned into full blown belly laughs. Huck joined in, his ribs aching and his shoulders shaking. His heart felt light and his mind was at ease, and he decided maybe cannabis wasn’t too bad.

When the laughter died down, they slouched down where he sat until he was flat on his back and looking up at the leaves above, the blue sky poking holes in them. It was serine and calm, something neither of them remembering the feeling of.

The silence was broken when Tom spoke up, “you ever think of the future, Hucky?”

Huck shrugged his shoulder ,”sometimes, but I try not to. You?”

“Yeah, yeah I do”.

“What do you see in your future, Tom? Do you see Becky?”

“Maybe,” Tom paused until he busted into laughter again ,”maybe I see Amy Lawrence too!”

“You can’t have both of ‘em!” Huck groaned in joking frustration ,”this is why no girl takes you seriously no more!”

Tom’s laughter died down to mere chuckles and he wiped the stray tear that escaped, “don’t worry, I mean nothing serious”.

“Maybe Becky is in my future,” he continued and looked as if he was lost in thought ,”hopefully you too”.

“What do you mean?”

But Huck couldn’t get an answer out of Tom, it was as if he was in his own world somewhere far away. Huck accepted his fate of silence and rolled over, stifling an oncoming yawn. Whatever effect the cannabis had hold of him seemed to be wearing off, and it left Huck feeling sleepy. He had no problem sleeping in the forest, he had done it many times before.

Before his eyelids fell and his mind drifted off into sleep, Tom’s words replayed in his head over and over again:

_ “Hopefully you too”. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hashish= the way they said marijuana back then  
> Fun fact: marijuana was only used by doctors in the 1800s, and wasn't popular for recreational use until the 1900s, though people still used it for recreational use in Huck and Tom's time, but it wasn't all that common. It was more commonly eaten than smoked.


	4. "Workers"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: racist language and drinking

It became a routine for Tom Sawyer to walk Becky home after work, talk to her and ease her woes and worries, kiss her hand goodbye, and leave her until the next day. It didn't become a hassle, but Tom only listened and nodded his head as she went on about her troubles, only chiming in to comment on the story. It was no longer as heart rushing as it was when the two were twelve.

To put it simply, Tom was bored.

It had nothing to do with how Becky was acting or how much he cared about the girl, but he couldn't find the shine in her blue eyes anymore. She didn't make his cheeks blush and she didn’t cause his words to fumble. She couldn't do what she did years ago, and Tom didn't know if it was possible to light the spark once more.

“Have you thought about what you're going to be, Tom,” Becky had asked him ,”like where are you in the future”.

“Steamboat captain,” Tom didn't hesitate to answer ,”I see myself sailing that old muddy river”.

Becky just giggled ,”you dream big, I guess. You know that's a hard job”.

“It’s also an exciting job, one that suits me just fine”.

“Oh, c'mon, Tom,” she rolled her eyes ,”be realistic. You need a job that pays well but is easy to get. There's no way you'll be able to be a steamboat captain”.

“Who are you to tell me that?” Tom said, not with malice just with a state of fact, “I can be a steamboat captain if I set my heart to it”.

Becky raised an eyebrow at him, “well, we are  _ engaged  _ aren’t we? Shouldn't I be able to give you advice?”

As the word engaged left the young woman’s lips, it was as if a gust of silence had swept the town and it was all Tom could hear bouncing around his head. Just a repeated chanting of that word. Tom didn’t know why it sent chills down his spine and shoot an arrow of melancholy into his heart. It made him real nervous, and it made him mad that it did. He cared about this girl so much, why on earth did he feel this way?

Tom just gulped down his worries and stuttered out ,”y-yeah, we are”.

When they got to Thatcher Manor, Tom reached out for Becky’s hand to quickly press his lips to it, but Becky stepped forward before he could. What she did sent Tom’s eyes wide and his breathe to leave him, along with any words he had left to spare.

She kissed him.

It wasn’t passionate or long, but Becky sure did put her all into it. She was gripping onto his shirt and pushing her body into him to the point where there was nothing in between them, only their skin against each other's. It was making Tom feel claustrophobic.

When she finally pulled away, letting Tom breathe, she gave him a honey sweet smile and told him goodbye, disappearing into her house. He was left dumbfounded, his chest still tight and his mind still blank. 

The only thing Tom Sawyer decided he need at the moment was a drink.

* * *

A week had passed since Huck had seen Tom, or anyone he associated with for that matter besides his maids and servants, and he became restless. His servant Margaret urged him to go out and have a nice night, and even offered to come with him, which was just a way for her to sneak out past the bed time her parents had set for her. Huck promised that when she was old enough that he'd take her out to see the town at night, but for now she had to follow what her parents said and do her job. 

Huck payed all of his workers, from the gardeners to the chefs to the maids, each one got more than enough money to give themselves a good life. Huck swore he would be damned if someone ever worked under him with no pay, he wouldn't stand for it. He's accepted he's going to hell, so he figured a few more sins wouldn't make much difference.

“I got your clothes out for you, sir,” Margaret gestured to the fancy attire on the bed.

“Thanks, little lady,” Huck smiled and patted her on the shoulder. She was just turning ten, but Huck thought she was much smarter for her age. It was all thanks to Tom taking the time to teach her the basics of reading and language. 

“When will I be able to go out with you and Tom?” the little girl asked as she sat next to him on the best, watching him button up his new white shirt.

“When you’re older”. 

“I’m older now”. 

“I mean when your parents say you're old enough”.

“That’s not fair,” Margaret pouted and crossed her arms ,”I'm mature ‘nough”.

Huck thought back to smoking hemp with Tom and thought that was no scenario for her. Ever.

With a wave goodbye and a smoke from his pipe, Huck headed into town and went towards the town bar.

Huck hated a lot of things. He hated most vegetables, he hated the late Miss Watson, and he hated shoes. Alcohol, however, he absolutely loathed. Just the scent of it could give him a headache. He had a boose ridden father, he knew what that stuff could do to a man. Huck would avoid the bar at all costs, except for the fact that this is the only place Judge Thatcher was willing to meet with him. Apparently even stuffy old men needed a drink from time to time, Huck thought.

Huck saw the old Judge sitting at the counter sipping away at a glass of whiskey, waving the youngman over when he spotted him. Huck made his way through the drunken crowd and hoisted himself onto the chair, looking more uncomfortable than ever. It's been a life goal to avoid drunk men, not be in the same room with them.

“Huckleberry I’m glad to see you,” Judge Thatcher smiled and patted Huck on the shoulder a little too hard for his liking.

“You can call me Huck, sir”.

“Well, then you can call me John”.

Huck tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at the older man ,”you don't look like a John”.

Judge Thatcher let out a laugh, “then what do I look like?”

“Like a Judge Thatcher”.

“You're a riot, kid,” Judge Thatcher took a sip of his whiskey and chuckled. Huck didn't see what was so amusing, he wasn't trying to be funny, he was being honest.

“So, what did you want to see me for?” Huck didn't know if he sounded rude, but he really didn't want to be in a bar for more than necessary.

“I do have something I need to discuss with you,” Judge Thatcher said ,”it's about your new position”.

“What about it?”

“Miss Douglas wasn't just a business woman, Huck, she was a town figure, a diplomat. A rural politician, one might say”.

“...and?”

“I’m asking you to step up and become a politician. Despite your lack of experience, you are a man, and I believe you'll be able to do a better job than a woman like Miss Douglas”.

“The Widow was never into politics, what're you talkin’ about?”

“She discussed town funds and small events around the town,” he took another sip of whiskey before continuing, “you have the potential to do more than that. I see the way you argue with people, even though sometimes you're wrong, you never back down”.

“But if I'm wrong what does it matter what I'm arguing?” Huck asked, more confused than before.

“Most politicians are wrong, Huck, but they are persistent and know how to debate, just like you”.

“You’re puttin’ a lot on my shoulders, Judge,” Huck groaned and massaged his temple ,”what would I even argue for?”

“Big stuff, like laws, taxes, the war- “.

“Excuse me?” Huck stopped him mid sentence ,”what the hell do you mean by war?”

“You'd inform the townsfolk of what's going on in the war, and get them to rally behind the confederacy”.

“What's the confederacy?”

“Oh, you ignorant boy,” Judge Thatcher sighed and shook his head, causing Huck to scowl at him. It wasn't his fault he didn't know, it not like anyone told him, the young man thought.

“The confederacy is the political party that the majority of all Southern states are rallying with. It's a party against the union. Our party, the confederacy, is looking to establish a weaker government”.

“What do you mean ‘our’ party?” Huck asked ,”is Missouri a confederate state”.

“It's split, but for the most part yes”.

“Why would we want a weaker government? Ain't that a bad thing?”

“Well, Huck, most of us are farmers, we don't need a strong government breathing down our necks. The union wants a strong government to take away our property”.

“...what property?”

“Everything we need: land, money, workers- “.

Judge Thatcher stopped abruptly and have Huck a startled look as the young man slammed his fist on the counter and gave him a glare that could burn like hell. He's says seen the boy as a poor orphan, not a rage filled man like this.

“Workers? Workers?!”

“Huck- “.

“Call it what it is, Judge! Call it what it is, it's a slave! Not a worker, a god damn slave!”

“Huck, people are staring- “.

“First, you call me here and offer me a job you know that I wouldn't be able to handle, a job that you know would humiliate the poor little town orphan boy in front of the entire village. Then, you have the nerve to get me to rally behind a party that treats blacks like they're property. How  _ dare  _ you- “.

“Shut your damn mouth for just one second, boy,” the judge growled at him in a tone that sent Huck aback. The man's eyes and face were beginning to redden from the alcohol, and it sent Hucks heart racing.

“You can hate what we do in the south all you want, but it's the way it's done down here, and it ain't going to change”.

“Don't make it damn right”.

Judge Thatcher raised his eyebrows and scratched his snow white beard ,”didn't know you was a negro lover”.

“There's a hell of a lot you don't know about me, sir”.

Shrugging, the judge hoisted himself from his chair and steadied his drunken feet. Huck respected the man, he knew Judge Thatcher was smart and brave, but right now he was holding himself back from knocking out the old man's two front teeth.

“The offer still stands, I still think you're skilled enough,” Judge Thatcher gruffly said before leaving the bartender a tip, and with a wave by the door he said, “you know where to find me, son”.

“Don't call me, son,” Huck grumbled under his breath. 

Huck sat at the bar and stared at the glass of water in front of him, inspecting the reflection that met his gaze. His eyes were blue and his skin was light, but he still stood with those with darker features. The townsfolk didn't know why, Judge Thatcher didn't know why, even Huck sometimes didn't know why, but his heart wouldn't allow him to do otherwise.

“Boy, that old Judge is a sure piece of work,” Huck heard a scratchy voice say to him ,”acts all high and mighty and then gets tipsy in a bar”.

Huck turned to see a familiar face, one with balding head covered with a yellow hat and a face that hung low off the bone structure. The man's cheeks glowed red like always and his suspenders hung off his shoulders, just as Huck’s did many years ago. A bar regular, and to some extent, a friend.

“Howdy, Muff,” Huck greeted and gave him a wave ,”what brings you here?”

Muff Potter gave him a toothy grin, if you can call it that with several teeth missing. He pulled the seat next to Huck’s out and plopped right down, instantly ordering a glass of whiskey.

“Why you know I'm always here, boy, this how I get out of the house,” Muff laughed, though Huck gave him a sympathetic look in return.

“That ain't good, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah it ain't,” Muff sighed ,”Doc Mitchell's is always telling me to put down the bottle, but living life with a drink in hand is easier than being sober all the damn time”.

“That's pathetic”.

Muff simply shrugged ,”guess it is”.

“Anyway, what was you and the judge goin’ on about anyway?” Muff continues after taking another sip of his liquor ,”what's this about you being a politician?”

Huck groaned and leaned back in his chair ,”Judge Thatcher wants me to take over for the Widow and be a town representative, or somethin’ like that”.

Muff Potter took off his hat and stated towards the heavens ,”God rest that woman's soul”. 

Simply nodding and ordering another glass of water, Huck turned to Muff and asked,”what side are you on?”

“Hm?”

“Are you Confederate or Union?” Huck reiterated the question.

“I'm on nobody's side, I ain't fightin’ in this war, am I?”

“I guess so”.

“War is pointless in my book,” Muff continued ,”it's just violence”.

Huck thought back to how Judge Thatcher said the word ‘workers’, as if he was trying to humanize what slave owners did. It made him grimace.

“I don't know, Muff,” mumbled Huck ,”I got a feeling this war is needed”.

Muff just shrugged his shoulders and finished up his last glass of whiskey before standing up, brushing himself off and looking back at his young friend.

“I'll head out owner catches me in here,” Muff stretched and Huck could hear his joints crack ,”he kicked me out last time”.

“And besides, kid,” he pointed a thumb at the door ,”I think there's someone who you'd much rather sit with”.

Huck turned his gaze towards the door as Muff exited the bar and let his eyes fall upon the familiar young man with reddish brown hair. It was a face he saw almost everyday but gave him a sense of joy every time.

Tom looked up and saw Huck at the bar, and quickly sat down next to him. Huck could tell Tom must've been drinking a bit at his Aunt Polly’s house due to his pink face and eyes. It wasn't as if Tom was a drinker, but Huck knew Tom had no problem downing a glass.

“H-howdy, Hucky,” Tom said, his speech slurred, “what's a pretty lass like yourself doin’ at a bar?”

Huck hadn't seen Tom drunk in a long time, the last instance being when he was fifteen and stole Mr. Rogers liquor for him and Joe Harper. 

Dismissing the drunken flirting, Huck shrugged ,”had to meet Judge Thatcher here to discuss stuff”.

“Ooh~” Tom leaned in and wrapped an arm around his friends shoulders, bringing his lips close to his ear so he could hear his whispers ,”look at you, a rich boy bein’ all high and mighty with Judge Thatcher”.

“Tom, please,” Huck tried to shove his friend off of him with little success ,”we're in public”.

Tom smirked ,”embarrassed?”

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Don't worry about it,” Tom dismissed him with a wave ,”all that matters is you and I right now”.

After taking another sip of the drink he ordered, Tom wiped his mouth and leaned into his friend, testing his nose in his hair and taking in his scent. Huck tensed up and his eyes darted around the room to see of anyone could see what was happening.

“You can’t right now, Tom”.

“Who’s stoppin’ me?”

“Me,” Huck sighed and lifted Tom out of his chair, slinging his arm around his shoulder, “I’m taking you to my place. Ain't no way you'll be out on the town in your condition”.

“Aw, you're no fun, Huck,” Tom pouted. He didn't resist, though. He let Huck drag him out of the with no resistance.

The walk home wasn't easy. Tom threw up multiple times, and Huck couldn't bare to see his friend in that state. He knew it was Tom’s fault, but he also knew something drove him to do it. 

When they arrived at Huck’s manor, Margaret was playing with the head chefs daughter Julia, but quickly got a wet towel for Tom as soon as she saw the two walk in. Margaret followed the men upstairs to Huck’s bedroom, hoping to stay the entire time with them, but Huck simply took the towel and told her to return to Julia, that this wasn't the place for her.

Huck threw Tom onto his bed, not understanding why Tom was laughing. He hadn't said anything funny, yet his friend was rolling around the bed giggling his heart out.

“What's the matter with you?” Huck asked ,”what's so funny?”

“Imagine us sleeping in this bed together,” Tom said in between laughs, “wouldn't that be fun?”

Tom's laughter ceased as he went on ,”though I'll have to share a bed with Becky, won't I?”

Tears began to fall in rivers down Tom’s cheeks, startling Huck. Huck had always expected people to be angry when they were drunk like his father, not emotional like this.

“W-why don't I love Becky no more?” Tom choked out in between sobs ,”why can't I be happy with her?”

“Shh. Just relax,” Huck whispered to him as he ran his fingers through Tom's hair, “don't worry ‘bout it”.

Tom wouldn't stop crying, though. Tears just kept coming and coming until Tom was reduced to mere sobbing sounds that barely escaped his throat. It scared Huck half to death. 

Huck rubbed Tom's back until he could hear his friend snoring through a stuffed up nose. Tom's eyes had begun to look red and puffy, like he had been sobbing for a lot longer than he actually had. Despite that, Huck couldn't help but notice how young and peaceful Tom looked when he was sleeping. He was beautiful, he thought.

He really thought Tom was beautiful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: I'm so sorry at how long this took, I've had the flu really bad and looking at the computer to write gave me a huge migraine. I probably should've toughed it out forgive me 
> 
> 2: I wasn't expecting such a positive response on this story, so thank you all so much! It makes my world to see that you guys like it:)


	5. Hangovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate how late I'm updating too

"Is everything alright, Huckleberry?”

Huck looked up from the ground after exiting his bedroom to see Margaret and Julia standing in front of him, a worried expression plastered in their young eyes. Huck couldn’t help but smile at the two young girls, both chubby cheeked and bright in spirit. While Julia’s skin glowed fair and pale, Margaret’s was dark like umber. Despite this, they could be found playing together throughout the manor during multiple times of the day. It warmed Huck’s heart to hear their childlike laughs together, it made him feel at peace.

“Everything is fine,” Huck said, trying to keep them from worrying ,”Tom just isn’t feeling well”.

Julia piped up ,”is Thomas drunk?”

That sent Huck’s eyebrows up in surprise. He’d never heard a little girl utter the words ‘drunk’ before.

“Well…,” Huck scratched the back of his neck, trying to find the right words ,”...Tom may have had a drink”.

“So he’s drunk”.

“Yes, he’s drunk,” Huck sighed ,”don’t talk about it, though. It ain’t a topic for girls”.

Both girls just shrugged and left the young man alone to his thoughts. Once they were out of sight, Huck tip-toed his way back into the bedroom to see a snoring Tom Sawyer passed out on his bed. He couldn't help but find the scene to be cute and endearing. To see the usually rambunctious and jumpy Tom look so peacefully curled up in a ball was enough to get Huck to smile. 

Huck began to strip Tom down to his underwear so he wouldn’t be sleeping in sweaty day wear that would rub him the wrong way. It wasn’t the first time Huck had seen him without clothes, he’s even seen him without the underwear a number of times, but this time felt different. Seeing Tom’s face shed year with no fabric clinging to his skin made Huck feel a sense of affection that he doesn’t even know if he’s ever felt before. For a second, it scared the hell out of him.

Tom stirred underneath the covers, causing Huck to jump out of surprise. The young man began to mumble in his sleep, mostly incoherent jumbles of sounds that Huck dismissed as gibberish, but two names that stuck out:

“Huck...Becky,” the names barely escaped Tom’s lips, but Huck heard it loud and clear.

Hearing his name next to the girl that adored and loved Tom made his heart flood with melancholy, but he couldn’t explain why. He didn’t hate Becky, or at least he tried his best not to. She had never done Huck wrong like the other townsfolk and she treated him with respect, so he tried his best to do the same. However, Huck couldn’t help but feel such dread when he saw the young woman. Maybe it was jealousy over her beauty. Maybe it was jealousy over her popularity.

Maybe it was jealousy over Tom.

Huck scoffed. The idea seemed ridiculous to him.  _ Beyond _ ridiculous, actually. Tom was allowed to have other friends, even if those friends were head over heels for him. 

Yet he still couldn't figure out why his heart screamed when he saw Becky swoon over Tom, when she would wrap herself around his arm and cling close to him as if she'd be lost without his presence. It was killing him just thinking about it.

“You’re full of shit, Finn,” Huck whispered to himself under his breath, barely audible so he wouldn't wake Tom.

Reaching out to brush the russet bangs from Tom’s eyes, Huck didn't even try to stop himself as he planted his lips onto his friends forehead. When the deed was dome, Huck couldn't believe what he had done. Shame filled his being as he shook his head on disgust and embarrassment. He quickly muttered out silent apologies as he left to sleep in a guest bedroom. He thought he couldn't stay in the same room as Tom if he couldn't help but pull stuff like that.

Huck really felt as if he was going insane.

* * *

 

Tom awoke with splitting headache and no idea where he was or why he was naked.

His limbs were sore and tangled in scratchy bed sheets, causing him to kick his way free from the covers that trapped him. Looking in the mirror across from him, Tom saw that he looked exceedingly more pale than he ever had in ears. His eyes were bloodshot and drool dripped off of his chin. To put it simply, he looked and felt gross.

“You up?”

Tom jumped out of his thoughts and whipped his head towards the door (which caused his head to throb), only to see Huck Finn leaning against the doorway, staring at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. As much as Tom cared about Huck, he wanted to wipe that smug look right off his face.

Huck stepped forward and sat down next to him, putting a hand on his friends back for comfort ,”how’re you feeling?”

“I feel like my head is goin’ to explode, Hucky,” Tom groaned ,”how did I even- ?”

“Get here?” Huck finished the sentence for him.

“Yeah”.

“You got dumb drunk last night, you idiot,” Huck rolled his eyes ,’had to drag your ass here so you wouldn’t go runnin’ around without a damn brain”.

“Well aren’t you just the nicest person,” Tom joked, sarcasm brimming his words.

“Watch yourself, Sawyer, I coulda left your ass drunk in the streets”.

“You didn’t,” Tom stated as he poked Huck’s chest ,”and you wouldn’t, either”.

Huck just shrugged, a sign Tom had won the small argument. 

“Why were you even drinking, Tom?” Huck asked, a sudden sense of concern etched in his voice ,”you know it ain’t good for you”.

Tom didn’t answer at first, as if any words he spoke wouldn’t be right. Silence flooded room and weighed on he two young men like dumbbells. Tom could tell Huck was getting worried, and that he had to come up with some excuse fast.

Finally, the young man just shrugged and said ,”it was nothing, really. Just somethin’ with Becky”.

Huck’s face scrunched up in discontent, though Tom could only guess why ,”what about her?"

“Hucky, it’s really no big deal- “.

“Please,” Huck reached out and grabbed Tom’s hand, causing him to freeze and lock eyes with his friends ,”I just want to help”.

“She kissed me, Huck, she kissed me right on the mouth for the first time in years”.

“And you didn't like it,” Huck concluded.

“Yeah, I didn't,” Tom bowed his head down as if he was ashamed, “I don't know why I didn't like it, I don't know what's wrong with me”.

“Because you don't love her”.

Tom looked up from his lap at his friend, absolutely astonished ,”how- ?”

“You said so last night,” Huck clarified ,”you said you didn't love her”.

“I don't know,” Tom threw his face in his hands and groaned ,”everything is just so frustrating”.

“Becky says we is engaged, my aunt sicker than a dog, and I have a shitty low end job that will never pay for my aunt's medical bills and for my little brother to go to school,” he went on, his throat seemingly growing tighter, “I just want life to stop for a second a let me breathe”.

Huck wrapped an arm around Tom’s shoulder and pulled him in close, feeling his warmth against his body. Tom knew Huck wasn't exactly adept at comforting people, so the the fact that he was trying meant a whole lot. 

“I can lend you money whenever you need, Tom”.

“I can't take your money,” Tom shook his head as he removed his face from his hands ,”it ain't right”.

“Since when do we care what's right and what's wrong?”

“Still, Huck,” he said ,”I wouldn't feel right takin’ your money”.

“And Tom, you really need to tell Becky”.

“You really know nothing about women, do you?”

“I don’t,” Huck admitted ,”and I guess I don’t know much about people either, but I’d like someone to be honest with me”.

Tom looked at Huck with a surprised look, as if the words coming from his friend were completely foreign to him and no one has ever spoken them.

“...you’re smarter than you look, y’know?” Tom smirked and playfully punched Huck in the arm.

“You’d be surprised how much I’ve heard that recently,” Huck chuckled in return and brushed the messy bangs from Tom’s eyes.

“Promise me you won’t drink like that again, okay?” he continued ,”seeing you drunk was mighty painful”.

“I know, Huck, I know,” Tom said, his heart tightening at the realization of his actions ,”M’sorry”.

“Oh, and one more thing, Tom,” Huck continued.

“Hm?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to try and kiss another boy in a bar, just sayin’”.

* * *

 

Before Tom made it back to his own house, he did everything he could to make it seem as if he wasn’t hungover. While his head was still throbbing and his walk was unsteady, Tom drank copious amounts of water so his eyes would appear less red and so his breath wouldn’t reek alcohol. Huck said he looked as good as new, so he had to trust his friend’s word.

Tom quietly pushed open the front door and slowly tiptoed past the kitchen in an attempt to not get caught sneaking in, but to no avail. Mary saw him and called him over to the table.

“Tom,” his cousin said in her soothing voice ,”come on over”.

With a sense of defeat, Tom sighed and trudged his way towards the woman and sat down across from her. He knew he was probably in trouble.

Mary never was the disciplinary type, and she hated to yell at Tom. The woman always wanted the best for him and she gave him her kindest hand when no one else did. Tom was grateful, he really was.

“Where were you last night?” she asked with no hint of anger in her tone, calming Tom’s nerves.

“I was with Huck.” he said, though he ironically didn’t even remember.

Mary nodded and closed her eyes as she sipped her tea ,”Arthur was at the bar last night, he saw you with Huck”.

Tom froze and his nerves starting acting up again. Arthur was Mary’s fiancee, and Tom liked him enough, but he also was great at ratting him out.

“Tommy, you really can’t be gettin’ drunk like that,” she sighed and rubbed her temple ,”it ain’t good for you or your image”.

“It was a one time thing, Mary, I promise”.

“I hope so,” she said ,”I’m worrying to much about mother to have to worry about you”.

“How is she doin’?”

“She’s with Doctor Mitchell right now, but I don’t know how we’re going to pay for all these medical bills, Tom. Both our jobs can’t handle it”.

“Doc can’t give us a discount?” Tom asked ,”you work for him, after all”.

“You know he can’t do that, he has to make a livin’ just like the rest of us”.

“I could work double shifts, day and night. Mary, I’ll take more hours so Aunt Polly can get better in no time- “.

That’s when Mary started crying. Tom stopped mid sentence and held his tongue, watching his cousin weep as he felt helpless in the situation. Tom had never seen his usually strong and confident cousin ever be so vulnerable before. It scared the hell out of him.

“No, no. I don’t want you working yourself silly. I’ll take more hours,” Mary said through a stuffy nose.

“Mary, please. I can help- “.

“You’re just a kid,” she was sobbing now, her words barely escaping her throat ,”I have to take this responsibility myself”.

Tom let his cousin cry without interruption. He knew she needed this, she had been up till the late hours of the night by her mother's bedside tending to her every need, working all hours of the day to work up enough money, and even putting off her wedding with Arthur so she could take care of her mother and her cousins. She was exhausted.

“...Mary,” Tom spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper, “Joe Harper told me how much being a private in the army pays”.

Mary lifted her sobbing eyes from her hands and let her jaw fall ajar when she looked at Tom. She looked as if she was either going to faint or throw up.

“No. No no no, Tom, you can’t-”.

“It’s fifteen dollars a month, that’s so much more than my job pays right now”.

“Stop talking like that!” his cousin yelled through her tears ,”I can’t let you…”

“Mary,” Tom reached out and grabbed her hand ,”this is my choice, and my choice alone. Nothing bad will happen, I promise”.

His words did nothing to stop her from crying, so he got up from the table and made his way to her. Tom ran his fingers through her ginger hair that matched his own and whispered reassurances that did nothing for her.

“I promise I’ll be fine,” he tried his best to sound hopeful ,”I promise”.

Before he could make his way out the door to talk to Joe Harper, he heard Mary whisper behind him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As compensation for the late chapter, I'm updating another chapter tonight and also writing a little Huck and Tom poem.


	6. Old Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: nightmares and child abuse

_Huck wandered aimlessly through the darkness, unsure of where he was. Fog covered his bare feet, making the ground invisible to him. The atmosphere was suffocating to the young man, as if he was choking on the air and slowly dying._

_A scream broke his thoughts on himself and brought them to the noise. Huck whipped his head towards the source only to see something that made every fiber in his body cry for an escape. A man stood just a few yards away, the smell of booze clearly emanating off of him. The man wore a scraggly peppered beard and clothes that.were torn and tattered. His eyes were a piercing black, as if no light was ever able to pierce them._

_Huck couldn't help but stumble back and fall at the sight of his father._

_His father paid no mind to him, however, as he was focused on a different target. That's when Huck saw it: the young boy cowering at his father's feet. Blood dripped from the boys mouth, a clear sign that he had just been struck in the teeth. His father held the young boys dark brown hair within his fist and was spitting all sorts of vulgar language at him. The child was crying, begging him to leave him alone, but the old drunkard wouldn’t relent as he threw the boy to the ground and stomped his foot into his ribs._

_Huck was mortified. He tried to scream and lunge forward, but it was as if his feet were glued to the ground and his voice was miles away. The only movement Huck could perform was turning his head to see the room, only to find every adult in his town looking upon them with pity and judgement. Everyone from Mr. Dobbins to Tom’s Aunt Polly was scoffing at them and spitting out judgements that tore holes in Huck’s heart. He was on the brink of tears, but he forced himself to keep his emotions in check._

_“Useless”._

_The voice was harsh and rough, and Huck recognized it to belong to his father. Pap Finn was looking at his son with bloodshot eyes filled with drunken rage. Without warning, Huck’s father picked up the young crying boy by the hair and threw him towards his son, the child landing at his feet._

_“How can you expect to take care of him,” Pap spat out ,”if you can’t even take care of yourself?”_

_The young child clung to Huck’s pants and trembled in fear. Huck knelt down and soothed him with whispers of reassurances. When the child looked up at him, Huck let out a barely audible gasp. It was a face he saw every single day, yet younger and softer. It was a child's face that Huck knew more than anyone._

_It was himself._

Huck awoke screaming the same moment that lightning cracked across the sky. The rain was pounding against the roof and windows at the same speed as his heart in his chest. The young man was soaked in sweat and trembled underneath the blankets, clinging to himself as if for dear life. Terror filled his entire being and the only thing he wanted to do was shrink away from sight.

“...Huckleberry, sir, is everything alright?”

Margaret was looking in through the doorway in her tattered night gown, a worried look painted on her face. Huck couldn’t help but shrink away from her, as if he thought that she was just as bad as everyone else.

“I-I’m fine,” he forced himself to say ,”p-please… just leave”.

“But sir-”.

“I said leave!”

The door quickly shut and the young girls footsteps could be heard running away, along with a quiet crying that followed them. Huck’s heart immediately flooded with guilt and he wanted to chase after her, but the feeling of fear still forced him to stay put.

Tears began to make their way down his face as he began to sob and hug his knees to his chest. Huck felt as if he was wallowing in a pool of helplessness and weakness. It was as if he was drowning and he couldn’t swim to the surface.

After what seemed like hours, Huck managed to heave himself from the bed and slowly walk towards the window. For a moment, he simply watched the rain pelt the glass like bullets. He almost forgot why he even got out of bed until he snapped out of his trance.

Huck looked up at the sky and wiped his tears, forcing on a small grin that was almost painful to wear.

“Jim,” Huck whispered as he rest his arms on the windowsill ,”it’s been awhile”.

Huck knew he wasn’t actually talking to his runaway friend, but wherever that friend was, he was looking at the same sky as he was, and that was enough for Huck.

“ ...I hadn’t had a dream like that in a while, but they never leave for good, y’know?” he whispered to the stars ,”you’ve seen me have them, you know how I get”.

There was no answer, but Huck imagined Jim nodding along.

“My pap’s right,” the words began to be choked up by tears again ,” I can’t never take care of Tom and his troubles if I can’t even stop myself from being frightened by a mere dream”.

“I want his face out of my head, Jim,” Huck was sobbing again ,”he ain’t my pap, he never was! The closest thing to pap I ever did have was you, and god dammit do I regret never tellin’ you”.

“Tom’s grown since you last saw him with that bullet in his leg. He’s tall and handsome, and wouldn’t play such games with you if he saw you now. But me, Jim, I-I’m still shakin’ at the thought of a drunkard who’s been dead for years! Everyone’s moved on with their lives and everyone’s learn to sleep at night but me, and I just want to be normal, dammit! People like you and me ain’t normal, we ain’t sivilized, but god damn I’m tryin’ here and it just ain’t workin’. I’m still the dumb little kid I was all those years ago, and it likes like there's nothing I can do to change”.

Huck wiped his tears once more and tried to control his breathing. He looked up at the stars one last time and sighed.

“Sorry for takin’ your time with my whining, Jim, you probably don’t like seein’ me like this, so I’ll leave you to your life”.

“See you on the other side, old sailor”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter wasn't meant to be long, it was just show that Huck still has a ways to go in his healing (though the memories will never leave him) and that he still looks to Jim as a sort of adult figure in his life.
> 
> I've decided that instead of waiting until next week to start writing the next chapter, I'm going t start writing it as soon as I'm finished with the current chapter so I can have it up as soon as possible and not have school work get in the way. That way you guys can get the chapter earlier and I won't go crazy with school lol. I'll be doing this for the rest of the story.  
> How are you guys? I hope you all had a good day, and if not just take a break and look forward to tomorrow <3
> 
> I actually almost made Jim Huck's foster parent instead of the Widow Douglas in my other fanfiction because I felt Jim was Huck's surrogate father in the book.


	7. Soldier Boys

Despite what everyone in town would tell you, Huck Finn was not stupid.

Words of Huckleberry Finn were always active throughout St. Petersburg. Mr. Dobbins would say that there was no hope for the boy and he'd never truly learn how to read. Doctor Mitchells might tell you that he was nothing but a nuisance and a burden to the town. Even the sweet Mary Sawyer, who always tried to see the best in people, would admit that Huck Finn was a boy like tarnished silver, and needed to be refined by society.

But Huck Finn was not stupid. While the words in the bible confounded him and arithmetic was a foreign concept, he understood emotions. He understood how people felt and how they reacted to him. To Huck, it wasn’t a guessing game. The hint of disgust in someone’s voice and their upright posture indicated a lack of respect. A slouch in the spine and a relaxed face and tone told Huck that they were on friendly terms. Huck understood, even if people didn’t believe it.

Huck Finn was not stupid, so when Tom Sawyer was avoiding him, he could tell.

It wasn’t Tom’s job to drop by everyday, and had no obligation to give Huck the time of day, but it was expected for Huck to see his best friend at least once a week. Both had jobs, both had lives, and both had other obligations. Huck understood this, and he also understood that not seeing your best friend for three weeks meant something was wrong.

Huck tried to tell himself not to worry, but the anxiety crept through the walls and into his chest. The worry made him feel stupid, like he was being irrational.In the back of his mind, Huck knew that Tom Sawyer couldn’t be mad at him if he hadn’t done anything to upset him, but that thought in the back of his mind was overshadowed the shouts of uncertainty and gut-wrenching vexation. It was damn near killing him.

After the third week of Tom’s absence, Huck couldn’t take it anymore. If Tom couldn’t find the time for him, Huck would find the time for Tom.

The sun blazed down in the center of the sky, telling Huck it was about noon as he surveyed everyone of the fishing boats sitting in the docks. The working men flooded the docks, carrying drums of exports waiting to be shipped off to St. Louis, while Huck’s fishermen loaded off the boats, rolling out crates of bass and pike so they could be cataloged. Among all of the workers, Huck was searching for the with russet curls that looked like fire in the summer.

Huck thought maybe he was being ridiculous. Tom was an adult and could choose whether he wanted to see him or not. He didn’t want to seem over emotional or dependent, but the idea of Tom being upset with him made Huck feel as if he was in a landslide. Tom purposefully avoiding his gaze over the past few weeks was practically driving him insane.

When blue eyes met brown ones on the dock, Huck made his way over to him. Tom didn’t run, he didn’t look for an escape, but his face shone with distress as if he was a deer caught in front of a covered wagon.

The first thing Huck said wasn’t ‘hello’ or ‘how’re you doing?’, it was ,”why on earth do you look as if you’re scared me?”

“I’m not scared of you”.

“Then stop lookin’ like you are”.

Tom threw his hands up in defense ,”Hucky, it’s just my face”.

“Well, it doesn’t look good,” Huck had wanted to be serious, but he couldn’t help but smirk and be infected by Tom Sawyer’s lively persona.

“Ouch,” Tom chuckled ,”that’s harsh”.

Huck raised his eyebrows at him and crossed his arms ,”not as harsh as bein’ ignored”.

For a moment, there was just silence. Huck could see Tom’s brow scrunch together as he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to find his words. Huck almost screamed from the suspense.

“Huck, it ain’t like that,” Tom tried to assure him ,”I wasn’t tryin’ to avoid you”.

“Sure seemed like it”.

Tom let out a sigh ,”I just… needed some time is all. I swear I wasn’t doin’ it to upset you”.

“Well, what did you need your time with?” Huck questioned ,”you can tell me, y’know”.

“I know I can, it’s just difficult this time, and I can’t do it right now,” Tom looked around at his surroundings and surveyed the dozens of people passing them ,”not right here”.

Huck stared at the ground for a moment, thinking and tapping his foot. He still wasn’t used to wearing shoes, despite the years that his feet had been jammed into them.

“Be at my house tonight,” Huck finally decided ,”tell me there”.

Tom simply nodded and jammed his fists in his pockets. The tension between them wasn’t heavy, but it was the thickest it had ever been. Huck wasn’t used to discourse between him and the other young man, so the situation was completely alien to him. He’d be ready to have discourse with anyone else in town, but not Tom Sawyer.

“I gotta get goin’” Tom said ,”I’m meeting Joe Harper and the gang at the tavern downtown. You can come, if you’d like”.

Huck shook his head ,”I’ll pass. A group of drunken boys ain’t my idea of a good time”.

Tom nodded and waved goodbye, making his way down the dirt road that led back into town. Huck watched him go, letting his arm lift up and extended his hand outwards as if to reach out to him, but immediately brought it back to his body. Soon, Tom was just a red dot in the distance, and then he was gone.

* * *

 

Contrary to the bar that was littered with drunks like Muff Potter and shady men your mother would’ve warned you about, the tavern was a clean building run by the Lawrence family that sat in the old shopping district of town. Despite the dirt from the road and sand from the wind, the tavern seemed to be in immaculate condition, as if it was untouched by time ever since it was built. Tom liked that about it, he liked when things didn’t change. He thought Huck did too.

The scene inside of the tavern was the exemplary image of masculinity. The former gang of robbers could be seen chugging liquor and dancing their hearts out to their own music. Ben Rogers jumped up on one of the seats and threw his drink up in the air, though it was a struggle for him not to fall over in his drunken stupor.

“A toast to all of us joining the army!” Ben shouted, his drink high in the air and his clothes disheveled ,”boys to men, amirite!”

Cheers and hollars echoed throughout the tavern, and Tom watched Ben hop down from his pedestal. It wasn’t a surprise that as soon as Ben’s feet hit the ground, he hand went straight to Amy Lawrence’s rear with a smack, causing the young waitress to gasp and hold herself back from yelling her head off. A red tint painted both his cheeks and his eyes, an indication that the drink in his hand wasn’t his first. Tom liked Ben enough, they had been friends since childhood and routinely hung out, but Tom could admit that Ben Rogers was someone you had to take in small doses. Too much of him would drive you insane.

“Ben’s quite the character tonight,” Joe said from the seat next to Tom while he took a small sip from his glass. Tom noticed Joe barely made a dent in the booze, and then realized he had never seen Joe drunk, though he didn’t say anything.

Tom chuckled ,”ain’t he always quite the character?”

They both shook with laughter and caught the attention of the man himself. Ben made his way over and sat himself right next to the two young men, a smile plastered on his pink face.

“I see you two are havin’ fun without me,” Ben laughed ,”can’t have that now, can we?”

“We do it all the time, Ben,” Joe playfully slugged him in the shoulder ,”’course you’d rather whitewash a fence than hang with us, huh?”

Even Ben couldn’t help but bust out in laughter at that, joining his friends as their shoulders shook and their bellies ached with merriment. A few jokes and laughs later, Ben clapped both of then on the shoulder and left the table, saying he was on his way to make fun of Johnny Miller and Billy Fisher. Tom smiled, remembering how gullible and naive Ben was in his younger years, and how strong and confident he had become. He thought about how they all changed, and how they are all still changing, though for the better he couldn’t say.

Joe set his glass down and turned to Tom, his smile having been wiped away ,”now, onto important stuff. Have you told him yet?”

Raising an eyebrow at him, Tom asked ,”told what to who?”

“Have you told Huck that you’re enlistin’?”

Tom stared down at the drink in his hand, his bronze colored reflection staring back at him as he swirled the drink. He shrugged, not knowing exactly how to answer.

“So you didn’t tell him,” Joe groaned and looked as if he wanted to smack his friend upside the head ,”Tom, it’s been three weeks, tell him now or never- “.

“I’m tellin’ him tonight,” Tom cut him off and took another drink ,”get off my back about it”.

“Until I know you actually told him, I won’t stop buggin’ you about it,” Joe persisted ,”he deserves to know”.

“You talk as if he’s my girlfriend,” Tom rolled his eyes ,”and I told you, I’m meetin’ him tonight and I’ll tell him then”.

“Alright,” Joe said, seemingly admitting defeat ,”just keep to your word”.

“You talk as if I ain’t the most truthful guy you know!” Tom laughed and slung an arm over Joe’s shoulder.

Joe quickly jabbed him in the ribs and pulled away ,”you are _so_ full of shit”.

“Full of greatness!”

“Yeah!” Ben Rogers called out from across the tavern “Tom Sawyer is full of greatness!”

The room filled with cheers and hollars as Tom hopped onto the counter and let out a war cry and did what he did best: being the center of attention.

* * *

Huck breathed in the cool summer air and looked up at the night sky and began trying to count the stars in the night sky as he was heading back from his walk. The Widow Douglas had told him about constellations and how the Greeks believed that the heroes of the passed decorated the night sky in a sparkling glory, but it never interested him as much as it interested Tom. After counting over fifty stars, Huck gave up and simply focused on the dirt road ahead of him.

“Where’d you go, Hucky?”

Looking up at the voice, Huck saw a familiar freckled face leaning against his house. The moonlight glowed over his face, making his handsome features seem ghostly at night. Huck couldn’t seem to look away.

Huck quickly brought himself out of his thoughts and tried to speak ,”s-sorry, I wanted to get out for a bit”.

“No need to apologize,” Tom said as he made his way towards his friend ,”why don’t we walk together”.

Huck nodded and crept close to Tom’s side as his friend did the same. They both had a comforting presence on one another, as if they were each other's security blankets.

The two walked in silence as the town behind them faded into nothing. Their footsteps synced up and there wasn’t a moment where their shoulders weren’t touching. Words weren’t needed, the only thing they needed were each other.

When they reached the docks, not a soul was in sight. The only presence with them was the cicadas singing and the fireflies dancing dancing around them. Other than that, they were completely alone.

“So,” Huck spun and faced his friend, “talk to me. Please”.

Huck had expected Tom to beat around the bush, for him to take a moment to listen to the Mississippi waves lap at the shore before uttering  word. He didn’t expect him to come right out and say it, for him to be so straightforward.

“I’ve enlisted into the army,” Tom said with little emotion to his tone ,”Joe Harper and I will be heading out in a couple weeks to join the southern confederate army”.

Huck had no words. It felt like the stars were falling. Like the world was burning.

“I wanted to tell you sooner,” Tom continued ,”but I was scared how’d you react”.

Huck felt like he couldn’t breathe. He wasn't a doctor, but he knew his heart shouldn’t be pounding the way it was.

“Please, Huck, just say somethin- “.

“What the fuck do you want me to say!?” Huck spat ,”want me to congratulate you? Want me to praise you and say that you’re oh so brave? Is that what you’re lookin’ for!?”

“N-no, no it ain’t!” Tom countered, and Huck noticed his eyes shining over like glass in the moonlight ,”but I also ain’t lookin’ for you to scream at me!”

“How could you honestly think that this was a good idea?” Huck stomped his foot on the dock and grabbed a fistful of his brunette hair ,”the confederacy? _The confederacy!?”_

Tom looked at him incredulously ,”what the hell would you expect me to join? I ain’t a fuckin’ traitor, I fight for my brothers”.

“It ain’t bein’ a traitor to fight for what’s right. Trust me, Tom, I know that”.

“So, then what the hell is right?” Huck could see Tom was crying now, and even though he was trying not to, Huck was crying  as well ,”am I supposed to let my aunt die because I can’t have a good paycheck? Am I supposed to let the North take away our rights and property? Am I- “.

“Property, Tom!” Huck interrupted him ,”what the hell do you think they’re referring to!? It’s negroes, Tom, it’s slaves!”

“I don’t think you know what you’re talkin’ about”.

“I may be ignorant, but I ain’t stupid”.

“Huck, I’m doin’ this for my aunt, and I’m doin’ this for you!” Tom yelled ,”how the hell can you be so blind as to not see that!?”

“‘Cause I’m seein’ the bigger picture here!” Huck wiped away his tears and took a deep breath so he wouldn’t sob, though with little success ,”how could you do this to Jim!?”

“This ain’t got nothin’ to do with Jim!”

“This has got everythin’ to do with Jim!”

Huck lost the strength in his legs and fell to his knees, sobbing and trying his hardest not to let Tom see him so weak, but Tom was no better. Tom wiped away his tears and offered Huck a hand, only to have it swatted away and hoisted himself up with no assistance. It was a simple act, but Huck could tell it hurt his friend.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Tom said, his voice stuffed up from the tears ,”I’ll come by tomorrow”.

Huck didn’t have the energy to say anything as Tom walked away, his footsteps fading into song of the Mississippi and cicadas. When he knew for certain Tom was gone, Huck crawled over to the edge of the dock and didn’t hold back. He sobbed his heart out, throwing up into the river and feeling as pathetic as ever.

The sky above him did nothing to comfort him. The thought of Jim looking up with him offered no security, just a sense of grief and failure. Huck hated it. He hated every damn second of it. He hated everything.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Huck tried to say through his tremors ,”I’m sorry”.

Tom Sawyer wasn’t there to help Huck, and Huck Finn wasn’t there to help Tom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, that was diffcult to write. I hate making them fight.
> 
> So I have some news! Some unimportant, and some important depending on if you're interested or not.
> 
> 1: I made a Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer group on the app Amino if anyone is interested. Amino is an app that lets you get connected with people with the same interests as you and I figured it would be a good idea to make a group for Twain Fans. 
> 
> 2: In Massachusetts, we have a state wide test known as MCAS and we have to write a 5 paragraph/4 page essay and we are scored from 1 - 6. Our prompt was "A character that has been influenced by an outside force, such as another character or society". I wrote about how Jim affects Huck with him being a father figure and him teaching Huck to not be racist and become an abolitionist, and it was honestly the best essay I've ever written and I'm so excited to get my score back.
> 
> Speaking of abolitionists y'all should read xpatxperience 's new work because I'm living for it


	8. Departing

The next day, Tom couldn’t bring himself to see Huck.

Worry consumed him as the days passed and he hadn’t seen a lick of his best friend. Joe and Ben tried to convince him that worrying was useless, that Huck just needed time to himself and that he didn’t have to see Tom, but it didn’t stop Tom from worrying. His chest filled with anxiety, as if the embodiment of worry itself had it’s fist wrapped around his heart. Half of the time, he couldn’t breathe.

By the time it came for Tom and the other young men to prepare to be deployed, Tom was practically living in a panic attack over Huck. It had been weeks, and Tom hated it.

“Is this how he felt when I didn’t talk to him?” Tom asked Joe as they loaded up the carriages to take them to camp, “because I don’t know how long I can take it”.

“You to act like you’re datin’,” Joe mumbled ,”it’s kinda gross”.

“We ain’t datin’” Tom rolled his eyes at him ,”I just care about him, is all”.

Tom looked back on his home town as a wave of melancholy crashed over him, causing him to feel as if he was drowning in a sense of woe. Everyone he loved wa supposed to see him off soon. Mary could be seen in the distance walking with Becky from the clinic to say goodbye. Sid would be coming with Aunt Polly not long after. He didn’t want to let them go. He didn’t want them to see him leave.

Regret was filling in. Maybe this wasn’t the best choice. Maybe Huck was right and he was making a mistake. Half of his brain told him to run to Huck’s house and tell him how he was a fool and beg for forgiveness. The other half told him that quitting meant abandoning his friends and his country. He had his own civil war in his head.

“Don’t start second guessin’ yourself now,” Joe warned, as if he could read into Tom’s mind ,”it’ll only make things worse”.

“You think he’ll come see me off?” Tom asked, a tad hopeful ,”Huck wouldn't let me off without sayin’ goodbye, right?”

“Of course he’ll come,” Joe smiled punched his friend in the shoulder ,”you two gib-faces are attached at the hip”.

Before Tom could say anything back, he felt two arms wrap around his waist and a pair of soft lips press to the back of his neck. The hands clasped on his belly weren't strong and calloused, but dainty and fair. Hands that hadn’t ever had to do manual labor. Hands that could care.

Becky rested her head on his shoulder, and it didn’t take Tom long to realize that she was crying. Tears fell onto his shirt and left sorrowful damp stains. Tom hated how they felt wet against his skin, it made him feel pathetic.

He turned his body so he could hug the young woman back, pressing his nose to her hair and whispering reassurances of how everything would be alright. Everyone around them simply watched, including Sid’s quick quip about them being ‘love-birds’. Usually Tom would punch him over that, but at the moment, he didn’t have the energy.

“I thought you wanted me to go,” Tom whispered.

“I-I do, I’m just gonna miss you”, she weeped into his shirt.

The feeling in Tom’s heart was something even the great American writers that Tom admired so couldn’t explain. It wasn’t love, he knew that for sure, but more a sense of nurturing. Somehow, the sense of protecting the girl encased in his hold flooded his head and heart. He wanted to hold her for as long as possible and ease her worries. It was only until Joe Harper tapped him on the shoulder that he realized he had been hugging Becky for a lot longer than necessary.

“Tom,” Joe said ,”say goodbye to your family. We have to get goin’”.

“But Huck’s not here yet- “.

“I’m sorry,” his friend sighed ,”but I don’t think he’s comin’”.

Tom had half the mind to punch Joe straight in the throat so saying such words. Huck had to come, Tom just knew he had to.

The Sawyer family sat waiting for Tom’s arrival, and Sid was the first to experience his brothers embrace. The two had spent the last fifteen years arguing day and night over every possible thing in existence, but it didn’t change the bind they had between each other. Every day Tom prayed for Sid to get a scholarship to Harvard and leave this provincial life behind him. Sometimes, Tom wanted nothing more than for his brother to have a better life than the rest of them. He deserved it, and they all knew it.

Sid’s feelings for Tom were not different. Sid dreamed of seeing his brother sail off on the steam boat that he never bothered to shut the hell up about. Seeing Tom’s freckled face extend in an ear-to-ear grin as he boarded that big old steam boat on the Mississippi was something Sid would give up all of his pennies for.

Pettiness was strong, but brotherhood was stronger.

“Stick to the studying, kid,” Tom said ,”when I get back I expect you to already be in the Ivy League’s”.

“Stick to being a dumbass,” Sid quipped back, only to have Tom playfully shove him away. Brotherhood was strong, but so was sarcasm.

Mary was next. The big sister in Tom’s life stood their strong amongst everyone. She didn’t cry, she didn’t cling to him for dear life, she simply kissed his cheek and told him how she’d tan his hide if he didn’t come back soon.

Tom could tell she was upset, and that the comment was an attempt to hide her sorrow, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to waver her strength.

“I’m waitin’ for you to come back and be the best man possible,” she gave him a honey filled smile and smoothed his hair down one last time.

Amongst all of his family members, his Aunt Polly stood short yet strong despite her weaker form. Tom could never figure out how despite all that life had thrown at her, her eyes that she shared with her daughter and nephews stayed hardened and determined. A pillar within a storm was the only way Tom could think to put it.

“C’mere and hug me,” his aunt said, trying to sound grouchy but letting her soft side crack through.

Tom bent down just slightly so she could wrap her arms around his torso. Her skinnying fingers clasped onto his shirt, and Tom felt every indent of every bone on her hand. It was frightening, as if his aunt was slowly deteriorating into a living skeleton.

“Send me letters or I’ll go out there myself and tan your hide,” she allowed herself to smile at him as she caressed his freckled cheek one last time.

Joe convinced the other young men to wait for another ten minutes so Huck could show up for Tom. Time passed, and Tom was still left standing in the street with no best friend by his side. Some of the other future soldiers were annoyed, some gave sympathy, and others simply thought it was pathetic.

Tom felt a hand on his soldier and turn to see it’s origin, only to see Jeff Thatcher giving him a sympathetic look as he gestured to the carriage.

“C’mon, Tom,” Jeff said ,”they’re waitin’”.

“Just one more minute,” Tom pleaded, looking back at the street ,”he’ll be here I swear- “.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t wait any longer. The best you can do is write Huckleberry a letter”.

Before Tom could protest one more time, he looked around to see the boys he grew up with look at him with nothing but disappointment and annoyance. His heart sank into his belly as he realized the reality; he wouldn’t get to see his best friend before he left.

A thought crossed his mind that he might never see Huck Finn again, but he immediately pushed that back. He refused to let him think like that. Not now, not ever.

“Alright,” Tom submitted and everyone sighed in relief ,”we can get goin’”.

Everyone began climbing into the multiple carriages the army had provided for the town to pick up the men. Most climbed to the front and tried to squeeze in the most they could, but Tom and Joe made sure they could sit at the end together, their feet dangling off the edge and above the road. The carriages lurched forward and the road began to race away inches below their feet. Tom looked over to see Joe’s eyes shining over like newly cut glass, and son followed in action. Their town was becoming smaller and smaller as they ventured farther away, leaving behind every game of Robin Hood they played as children.

“This is it,” Joe tried to manage a smile but his lips quivered ,”we’re off to become men”.

Tom managed a weak laugh. In that moment, he regretted everything.

That’s when he saw it. A skinny young man could be seen chasing after the carriage, often tripping over himself and tumbling to the ground, only to immediately get right back up and continue running. Every townsmen was heard yelling at him to stop and that it was useless, but the boy didn’t stop.

It didn’t take Tom long to realize that it was Huck. Joe had to physically restrain Tom from jumping off the moving carriage to meet his best friend.

“Huck!” Tom called out, a true smile breaking through.

When Huck was close enough to be heard, he stopped in his tracks and cupped his hands around his mouth and began shouting his heart out.

“I’ll be here waitin’ for you!” Huck voice reached the carriage and right into Tom’s heart ,”promise me you’re comin’ back!”

Most of the young men in the carriage rolled their eyes, aside from Joe who smiled to Huck and then to Tom, who couldn’t help the single tear that rolled down his cheek as he shouted right back at his friend.

“I promise!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deleted the notice before I could reply to any comments, so I just wanted to say thank you so much for understanding. I will say I'll be trying t update once a week, so me updating twice a month is a worst case scenario but I'm so relieved that you guys will understand if to comes to that.  
> Love you all and I hope you have a wonderful day!


	9. Opportunity

While adults crowded around the meeting table shouting out their point of view of the town, the young man sat in the corner of the room curled up in his chair practically falling asleep. Huck’s eyelids drooped slowly downwards as if they were slowly turning from flesh to lead. The moment he walked into the town meeting, not only were there whispers of judgement towards the town’s orphan, but some words of concern. His hair was disheveled in a brunette mess, two of the buttons on his shirt were left open for public view, and the dark circles under his eyes sunk in farther than canyons. It looked as if sleep was foreign concept.

Huck was sick of these stupid meetings. Every single time they occurred, his body had to be stuffed inside of his sunday bests and his feet were crammed into newly shined loafers. Judge Thatcher tried to convince him that his presence at the meetings was appreciated, he didn’t believe him. He hated all of it. Nothing that ever occurred benefitted him or the fishing expo, all the gatherings ever did was out stress on his mind and anxiety on his nerves. 

The exhaustion was getting to him. He hadn’t slept right in over a week, ever since Tom left. Every night consisted of restless tossing and nightmares that rendered him into a trembling mess. He thought he would be better about ll of it, he really did, but the separation was creeping in and burying itself into his heart. His hands shook just thinking about it. Huck considered the idea that he might actually be going insane.

To put it simply, Huck hadn’t gone without seeing his best friend on a regular basis, and it felt like he was going through Tom Sawyer withdrawal.

People began to shuffle past him, whispers of their disapproval reaching his ears. Huck was too tired to let it bother him. He just wanted to go home and sink into the mattress and enjoy the rest of his day off.

Huck attempted to follow the crowd as they made there way out of the building, but he was stopped dead in his tracks when a strong, calloused hand clasped onto his shoulder. His patience was withering thin, and if the owner of the hand didn’t explain himself soon Huck was ready to turn around and through a fist straight into their nose.

“Huckleberry, it’s good to see you,” a gruff voice said through smiling lips. It was a voice that had seen many years ,”I haven’t seen you around town recently”.

Judge Thatcher stepped forward so Huck could actually see him. Though it was covered by thick gray whiskers, Huck could see the full grin the judge was flashing him, as if he was trying to say that he came in peace. Huck didn’t believe that.

“Mornin’, sir,” Huck greeted him back, trying his best not to be rude by biting his lip.

“Quite a show you put on in the town square the other day,” the old man chuckled ,”you runnin’ after them wagons and all. Very amusin’, I’ll say”.

“Don’t mock me,” Huck glared at him, his politeness flying out the window along with all of his patience ,”I did what I did, I don’t need fat old men judgin’ me for it”.

Huck was expecting a slap to the face and a scolding session that he had heard so many times before, but what he got was the judge busting out in belting belly laughs. Huck backed up slightly, afraid the old man had actually gone insane. He didn’t know much about insanity, but he was ready to make a run for it at any moment.

“Now that’s a first,” the judge finished his laughing with a chuckle and a pat to his belly ,”never thought a kid would have to guts to call me fat”.

“So,” Huck tried to get this over with so he could get home and forget about everything that had been plaguing him ,”what do you want?”

“Son, I’d like to talk to you about how we can further your career,” Judge Thatcher didn’t shy away from getting to the point ,”I’d like you to come by the town hall so we can discuss where the fishin’ expo is headed, and how we can advance our options”.

“I’m gonna be honest, Judge, I have no idea what you just said”.

Judge Thatcher chuckled once more ,”I want to help you find more options for yourself”.

“I’m confused, what’s wrong with my fishing expo?”

“Huckleberry, you’re not a businessman. At the rate you’re at, Miss Douglas’s business will fail within a few months”.

“You think I ain’t trying my damn hardest. Old man, why I ‘autta- “

“Say what you like, but your talent belongs… elsewhere,” the judge seemed to hesitate, as if he had to be careful over his next words. He did, really. One wrong move and Huck would start swinging.

“Just...come by my house. I’ll provide lunch and we can discuss the future of your career,” Judge Thatcher finished up, patting him on the shoulder and making his way towards the door, “I’ll be waitin’”.

With that, Huck was left alone standing in the town meeting room. His head raced along with his heart, leaving the young man dumbfounded to what he was supposed to do. Huck figured if Tom were here, he’d know exactly what to do and would handle the situation perfectly.

Except Tom Sawyer wasn’t there, so Huck had to face this himself.

* * *

 

Huck shifted his weight from foot to foot as he idled outside of the lavish house. Despite the fact that he awoke every day in a large feather bed and lived in a three story house that sheltered him and servants, Huck still felt out of place when put in a situation involving rich tastes. Thatcher Manor took everyone's breath away when they first saw it. Both the wooden exterior and the picket fence were always painted with a fresh coat of white, with no signs of imperfection anywhere. If the house didn’t make a poor man enraged with jealousy, the grounds that guarded the building would cause him to faint. Hedges and rose bushes decorated the inner and outer borders of the property, making everything in the surrounding area look piddling and pathetic. Huck hated it. He hated how they boasted their wealth. It was disgusting.

“Huckleberry?” Huck could hear a smooth, feminine both call out from behind him ,”is that you?”

Becky Thatcher emerged from behind him, startling him more than he’d like to admit. Despite the smile she gave him, a sick feeling sunk into his belly as if she stabbed him in the navel. He always felt like this around her, resulting in a sense of disgust towards the young woman.

Huck forced a smile ,”in the flesh”.

“Daddy was talkin’ about you comin’ today,” she said cheerfully and waved him forward ,”c’mon, I’ll walk you in”.

“I don’t need some girl to let me in”.

Becky’s smile fell as her cheerful persona turned to incredulousness. It took Huck by surprise, seeing the girl his best friend lionize look like she was at a loss for words.

“...excuse me?” she asked, her voice quiet ,”did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“Just sayin’, I don’t need no help from  _ some girl _ ”.

Huck said the words like he was spitting venom. He didn’t even know he was capable of that.

The young woman stepped forward, her heels clicking against the stone pathway and jabbed her finger towards Huck’s chest, sending him back an inch. Her eyes looked hurt, the usual ocean blue turning to ice.

“I am  _ not  _ just some girl,” she said with newfound intrepidity ,”now let me walk you in or you're stayin’ outside!”

It didn't seem like Huck had a choice, so he relented. She took him by the arm and led him (or dragged him) to the front door, letting herself in and ignoring the servants that greeted her. Huck looked around and thought the place was practically a maze, and yet Becky navigated it as if it was tattooed onto her back. 

“Papa,” she knocked on the door and spoke softly ,”Huckleberry is here”.

Judge Thatcher ushered them into his office and had Becky close the door. Huck’s heart was racing a million miles an hour standing in front of him as if it was judgement day. Huck tried to figure out if he would get hurt if he jumped out the window and escaped, but the judge broke his thought when he began to speak.

“It's great to see you, son,” the old man smiled, “come, sit”.

“I’d rather stand”.

“Alright, alright,” Judge Thatcher sighed ,”I want no bad blood between us. I want us to be allies. Cooperate with me”.

“Now,” he continued ,”let’s not waste time with small talk. Son, I’d like you to work with me in the court of law”.

Huck stood speechless in front of him, his face reading nothing but astonishment. He looked at Becky for any form of justification, but she looked just as surprised as him.

“ ...me?” Huck finally said ,”sir, I can’t. I ain’t got no experience, and I have the fishin’- “.

“I’d like to co-own the fishin’ expo with you. You’d get half the profit, but you know I could double the money that you’re makin’ now. In return, you work with me in a law and order scenario, you could say”.

“I’m not good enough”.

“My boy, you have so much potential!” Huck wasn’t expecting so much confidence from the old man ,”the way you argue, the way you stand up for what you believe, it’s incredible. Most people in town would back down from a fight with their tails in between their legs, but not you. You put up a fight. Is it the right fight? Debatable at best, but that doesn’t matter”.

Huck raised an eyebrow at him ,”people ain’t gonna like you hirin’ me. It ain’t a secret I’m what you call a pariah”.

Judge Thatcher smiled at him ,”so I  _ am  _ hirin’ you?”

“I-I never said that- “.

“Huckleberry, please, this would be great for your future,” the corner of the judge’s lips tugged upwards ,”Tom sure would want you to take the opportunity”.

The name ‘Tom' left his mouth like a forbidden spell. Huck looked down, knowing at this point he was powerless to refuse. Instead of arguing or fighting, he looked the judge in the eyes and faked a grin.

“Alright, old man,” Huck said ,”you have yourself a deal”.

Judge Thatcher smiled and shook the young man’s hand vigorously, leaving Huck’s wrist sore. He instructed Becky to walk him out, not without telling him once more how great this would be for the both of them, and how he wouldn’t regret it. Huck wasn't having a hard time believing that.

Becky led him back to the front yard, not a word spoken between the two of them. Her sunny persona was stripped away, leaving only a chilly atmosphere that caused Huck’s nerves to freeze. He wanted to go home as fast as possible, but kept his pace the same as hers to not warrant any suspicion.

“Huckleberry,” Becky said just above a whisper ,”do you not like me?”

Huck looked back at her with a raised eyebrow ,”I like you just fine”.

“Don’t lie to me,” she sighed ,”was it somethin’ I did?”

When he didn’t answer, Becky took the liberty of continuing:

“I don’t know what it is, but we should be friends. We both love Tom, and for his sake we should get along. Whadya say?”

“Yeah, sure,” Huck didn’t bother to make himself sound convincing ,” I’d just love to be friends with some rich girl”.

“What is with you and this ‘some girl’?!” she looked as if she were holding herself back from slapping him ,”I’m just as capable as you in this world!”

Huck rolled his eyes ,”all you girls do is complain about mud, cry to your daddies, and worry about whether or not your dresses will get dirty. It’s annoying”.

Becky crossed her arms across her chest ,”if you had a daughter, would you say that to her? Would you tell that to your mama before she died?”

“You don’t get to talk about her, you little- “.

“I’m tryin’ to work with you here, Huck, and you’re doin’ nothin’ but actin’ like a child!”

Huck turned his back with her and sent his middle finger flying up, a scoff escaping his lips ,”I’m workin’ with your dad, not you”.

He tried to walk away and escape the situation. Huck expected Becky to grab him by the shoulder and continue to fight him, but her feet stayed glued to the ground, the only thing coming from her being one last argument.

“The future is here, Huckleberry Finn, whether you like it or not!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of a beautiful friendship, amirite?


	10. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My entire search history right now is trivia about the confederate army for this story

By the end of the first week, it was a clear that, according to their superior officers: "None of these goddamn boys know that the fuck they ought to be doin'".

The carriages of young men arrived at the camp when the sun was starting to disappear behind the horizon. All was still, no soldiers could be seen wandering about, and the only thing talking was the crickets in the brush. It strangely reminded them all of home, when adults closed their doors for the nights and were unaware that their sons and daughters were sneaking out to go play in the woods. Tom thought it was damn near nostalgic.

Even though the beds they were given were nothing but old cots with stains from only god knows what, it reminded him of the long nights alone with Huck out in the woods, staying up till the crack of dawn talking about whatever their hearts desired. Everything so far was going good for him. It wouldn't be so bad, he thought.

Then drills started.

Joe Harper shook Tom awake before the sun rose, telling him if they weren't dressed and out in the field in five minutes that one of the superior officers would come in and drag them out by their throats stark naked. Tom tried to call his bluff, but Joe wasn't ready to take an chances for the both of them. The two threw on the old clothes that they were given when they arrived and headed out the tent, still putting on their shoes in the process. Tom knew they'd be getting up early, he'd anticipated rough awakenings and the longing for his bed, but he wasn't expecting the to see the sun to still be hiding behind the hills and groups of young men desperately trying to rub the drowsiness from their eyes.

It started out as what Tom thought to be a mind game. Superiors were going around and selecting the boys whose knees shook with fear to scream at and bring them close to tears. Tom knew this was just a dumb scare tactic, but he still kept his head high and his expression hardened to make himself seem like a less of an easy target. He could handle screaming, but it wasn't on his everyday bucket list.

Tom didn't realize Joe wasn't as prepared. He didn't even really comprehend the situation until he could hear the drill sergeant screaming in his friends face.

Joe was visibly shaking, so much so Tom thought his knees were gonna give out. His face looked like a deer caught in front of a moving wagon and his eyes were shining over with a sense of terror. The sergeant asked him for a name, but Joe fumbled over his words and took longer than necessary to answer. The older man grew impatient quickly and screamed his question louder and closer to the young man's face, split flying and splattering all over Joe. Tom thought it was a miracle his friend didn't faint.

"Joe Harper!" Joe squeezed his eyes shut when he finally answered, as if the sergeant would go away if he didn't see him. His superior promptly told him to 'be a man and look me in the fucking eyes, Harper'. Joe maintained eye contact for a few seconds before temptation took over and he blinked, prompting the back of the sergeant hand to collide with his cheek. Joe fell backwards and struggled to stay on his feet. The kid looked like he might faint. The smack could be heard by the entire group, but everyone kept their eyes forward in fear that they were next. Everyone except Tom.

A soldier watching from the front of the group informed the sergeant of a 'skinny little redhead that couldn't keep his eyes forward', to which the attack on Joe Harper was halted. A new fear dwelled in Joe's eyes as he realized who the soldier was talking about. Tom felt his heart climb into his throat and choke him with anxiety, but he shushed his worries the best he could and stood still. The only thing he was able to see before the sergeant was in front of him was the scrawny kid next to him mouth a 'good luck'.

When asked his name, Tom didn't shout like his friend. Keeping his cool and not panicking was the only thing on Tom's mind.

"Tom Sawyer, sir".

A string of questions followed, each one more condescending than the last. The sergeant face was redder than the sky had begun to turn now that the sun was rising, but Tom still managed to talk in the tone reserved for Sunday church sessions and talks with older women in his town. Tom could tell it was pissing the sergeant off more and more, but the urge to give him a hint of rebellion was too overwhelming for someone like Tom Sawyer.

The sergeant caught onto this, and looked proud as he collided his knuckles with Tom’s mouth, all too ready to kill the boyish glint of happiness that still lingered in those brown eyes. The mischievous smirk that once practically tattooed itself onto Tom’s face was replaced with a gasp and look of pain. He fell backward and lost his balance, landing on his rear and growling in pain as he clutched a hand over his mouth. 

“Fuck!” Tom hissed out as he realized his tooth was knocked loose, releasing a trickle of blood down his lip. 

In a moment of anger and stupidity, Tom spit at his superior officer. A storm of saliva and blood splattered on the drill sergeants pants. Everyone was still for a moment, not realizing the kid actually had the balls to do what he did. The confusion and shock was broken when the sergeant screamed absurdities and kicked him in the ribs. Tom’s face twisted in pain and tried to crawl away, only to get kicked again.

Because of Tom’s ‘disobedience’, the entire group of young run five laps around the entire perimeter. No breaks, no stopping, but kicking the shit out of Tom Sawyer for revenge was acceptable.

Three days in was a simple marching exercise. Gorilla warfare seemed to be a foreign concept, because according their superior officers: ‘real men fight head on, even if gettin’ shot in the head is the cost’. Every single man there fumbled with their feet and tripped on each other, most of all Tom. Everyone formed a mutual vendetta against him because of all the running yesterday, so whenever someone got the chance they secretly shoved Tom forward, causing him to eat dirt and get yelled at by his superior officer. 

Joe was up front, his heart beating fast and his feet covered in blisters from the extensive amount of marching. He constantly shot glances back at Tom, who nine times out of ten was on the ground and gave him a look of sympathy. Joe couldn’t help but feel like he should be helping him, but fear kept the young man in place. If he did move, he would surely be given a slap as punishment.

Tom felt someone spat on him, and lost his mind when a glob of saliva slid down the back of his neck. He wheeled around and sucker punched the fellow behind him. Whether or not he was the man that actually spit on him, Tom had no clue, but he didn’t care. Everything he’s had to endure over the past few days boiled his blood to the point of an explosion. His fist collided with the man’s face, loosening up his teeth and sending a storm of saliva and blood flying from his mouth. Shouts and hollers started as the two began to brawl. Tom recognized the guy from the tent next to him; some scrawny little blond kid from Jackson. He easily pinned the kid to the ground and repeatedly pounded him in the face. Some of the men around them were shouting on encouragements, like Ben Rogers, telling Tom to ‘kick the shit out of him, whitewash boy’. Others were trying to pull him off, like Jeff Thatcher who knew that if Tom kept going one of those kids would be killed; the Jackson boy from getting the absolute shit kicked out of him, or Tom from getting his ass beat by a number of superior officers.

The fight only ended when a gunshot echoed throughout the sky and everyone froze, even Tom. The sergeant, different from the one on their first day but just as ornery and terrifying, held a pistol in the air and looked at Tom like a predator eyeing prey. Tom saw his life flash before his eye and a moment of seconds when the sergeant made his way over and wrapped his hands around his neck, picking him up and throwing him off of the boy. Before Tom could even yell out a protest, the sergeant stepped forward and drove his foot right in between Tom’s legs. Tom screamed out in pain, his face contorted in agony. For a moment, he thought he was going to throw up.

“Ye gotta disciplinary issue, Sawyer,” Tom heard the sergeants gruff voice as his vision blurred ,”we ain’t got no room for weak links, ya hear?”

Tom thought about his bed in St. Petersburg before he blacked out on the spot.

By the end of the week they were given rifles. They weren’t the breech loaders that Tom fantasized and dreamed about back at home, but your typical musket that had the same accuracy as Muff Potter when he was in his drunken stupor. 

They were shooting posts out in the field. Most of them had never touched a gun before, and the little instructions the commander gave them offered no help. Alfred Temple raised the gun and kept it close to his eye for the best aim, only for the recoil to send the butt of the gun into his face, giving him a bloody nose. Tom thought it was the best thing that happened all week as he barked out in condescending laughter.

He was no better, though. When Tom raised his gun, the power of the shot startled him so bad he dropped the weapon at his feet and let out an audible yelp. Alfred smirked at the action, only for Tom to give him a middle finger in response.

“Pretend to like each other,” Jeff Thatcher whispered to Tom ,”you ain’t got time to keep up this childish feud”.

“Can’t stand the guy, is all,” Tom mumbled back ,”all stuck up and shit. Don’t know how you do it”.

Jeff shrugged ,”I pretend he doesn’t exist”.

“Must be nice”.

“Quit mopin’ and pick up your gun”.

Among all the boys that kept missing and groaning out in frustration, Ben Rogers was the only one able to land a shot on the post. If his ego wasn’t enormous before, it was surely inflated now. Tom knew Ben was one of the few who had gone hunting and had shot a gun before, but he didn’t expect his aim to be on point more times than not. It was almost frightening

Tom looked over at Joe, who still hadn’t fired his gun yet. Out of fear or rebellion, Tom couldn’t tell, but when Joe finally raised the gun and pointed it at the post, Tom was relieved. The only thing worse than Tom getting in trouble was one of his friends getting in trouble.

Joe fired multiple rounds, faster than anyone in the group expected. Two hit the post, but the others hit the grass and exploded in dirt. A look of horror dawned itself on Joe when he looked down and realized what he had actually gone. The heat from all the shots warped the barrel of the gun, making it absolutely useless. 

A path was made for the commander as he made his way over to him. Joe looked as if every muscle and bone in his body had been frozen over. The commander took the gun away from it and examined it, only to throw it on the ground in disgust and scoffed. His superior officer instructed him to stand next to the post out farther in the field, and Joe was too scared to protest.

“You,” the commander pointed at Ben ,”what’s your name?”

“Ben Rogers, sir”.

“Ben Rogers, shoot the post”.

Ben looked at the commander, then at Joe, then back at the commander. He didn’t have the guts or stupidity to deny his superior, so he lined himself up with the post and raised his weapon. He could see Joe visibly shaking, the fear prevalent in his eyes. 

The trigger was pulled and the bullet flew through the air, hitting the post perfectly. For a moment, Joe looked like he was about to faint right there. He made his way back to the group, his knees still wobbling from fear. Before he had time to actually get a full breath in, the commander grabbed Joe by the shirt collar and pulled him closer, his cigarette ridden breath on the young man's face.

“That’s how you shoot a gun, boy”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be up a lot sooner than this one was because I'm already halfway done with it. I have finals and state exams coming up so I'm trying to get these done early.


	11. Hell in Church

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: the next chapter will be up early!  
> School: HA YOU THOUGHT

A Sunday morning should treat you well, if the demanding tasks of religion appealed to you. St. Petersburg was like that; a protestant town with protestant people and a protestant way of living. Sunday school, then the call of Sunday Mass, and then afternoon prayer. It wasn’t written in stone, but it might as well be the law of the land for these Missouri folks. It was like clockwork for them; never missing a chance to fulfill their duty to the Lord.

The rule had one exception, however, and that exception was currently sleeping in late with drool on his pillow and his hair messier than a rats nest. 

Huck was  _ not  _ a morning person, and especially not on Sundays. The young man's one day off would not be spent cooped up in a hot church with a bunch of adults badly singing hymns if he had any say in it. 

On this day, he found out for the first time since the Widow Douglas’s passing, he didn’t actually have a say in it.

Sunlight poured in through the window and cast a shine on Huck’s sleeping face, causing it to twitch and scrunch up. He figured the least the sun could do was wait another hour or two, if it had the decency to let him sleep. 

In the end it wasn’t the appending morning that dragged him out of bed, but little hands shaking his shoulder and poking his face as an attempt for him to open his eyes.

“Huckleberry, suh,” he heard a small, meek voice say beside him, followed by another poke to the face ,”Huckleberry, suh, wake up”.

He knew it was Margaret’s voice speaking and Julia’s finger touching him before he even mustered up the energy to open his eyes and look at them. Despite the oncoming attack of drowsiness on his mind, the shine of youth and hint of a childish grin on their lips was enough for Huck to try and keep his eyes open. He loved the way the two girls played together, the way they hid from their parents and had their own secret adventures. It reminded him too much of a certain boy who knows all too well.

After seven more pokes and four more “suhs”, Huck sat up in bed and smirked down at them. If anyone else had woken him up, he’d either cuss out ever word that wasn’t written the bible or just start swinging, but he couldn’t get mad at them. Even if he tried, he just couldn’t.

“What’re you two little ladies doin’ up this early?” Huck asked, smiling and trying to act like a gentleman to amuse them. It worked, since both girls giggled and looked at each other.

“Julia’s gettin’ ready for church, suh,” Margaret spoke up and grinned, showing off the one dimple that sunk into her left cheek ,”I was gonna help her get dressed. She got the nicest dress I ever did see”.

“She sure does,” Huck nodded in agreement as he look down at the other little girl ,”you are lookin’ lovely in your new dress, Julia”.

Julie giggled and patted down her puffed up yellow dress that was adorned with bows at the hem ,”thank you. Mama picked it out”.

Huck looked back and forth between the two girls, eyeing them both for a moment. Julia her Sunday bests on, everything from shined shows and bows in both her dress and hair, while Margaret was adorned in a simple beige down that was tattered at both the hem and sleeves.  Huck didn’t expect himself to get so irritated at this, but he clenched his bed sheets in his fists nonetheless. Julia didn’t notice, but Margaret did as she gave him a worried and confused glance.

Finally realizing what he was doing, Huck sighed and released the sheets, forcing a grin on his face ,”how would you like a dress like Julia’s?”

Huck had never seen someone’s face light up so quickly. The sparkle in Margaret's deep brown eyes shined even more as she excitedly nodded and spewed out a million thank you’s. Julia raved about how they could match and how they could be like sisters. It damn near made Huck’s heart melt.

“Anyways,” Huck cleared his throat ,”why’d you two wake me up? I like sleepin’ in, ya know”.

Julia’s eyes widened and started pointing out the window frantically ,”oh, oh! I almost forgot, there’s a pretty lady here to see you!”

“Do you know her name?”

“Nuh-uh, but she sure is pretty,” Julia said as she giggled behind her mouth ,”is she a girlfriend?”

Huck made a contorted face and shook his head, earning a laugh from both of the girls. He thought if he could hear their laughter for the rest of his life he might be content.

Quickly throwing on his button up and slacks, Huck raced down stairs to fetch his shoes and open the door to the mysterious guest, only to see someone had already let her in, or she had the nerve to let herself in. Becky Thatcher stood unashamed and proud in his entrance hall, the light shining behind as if she was trying present as some sort of ethereal deity. The sight made Huck almost roll his eyes and scoff in her direction, though he held himself back.

“Hello, Huckleberry,” Becky nodded in his direction ,”I hope this morning is treatin’ you well”.

Huck didn’t bother with formalities and cut to chase ,”why are you here? Who let you in?”

Becky couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle ,”your little slave boy over in the kitchen let me in”. She gestured to the young boy in the kitchen helping the chefs clean the dishes, despite his lack of experience and proper attire (mainly shoes, but Huck was the last person to make anyone wear shoes).

With a scowl, Huck glared at her ,”Isaac ain’t a damn slave”.

She ignored him and continued, much to his irritation ,”and my papa sent me here. He’d like to have you attend Sunday mass with us”.

Now that was a joke. It had to be. Huck had a theory that the next the next time he stepped into a church, he would burst into flames right on spot, and no one would bother to out him out. One final good riddance to ole Huckleberry Finn.

“I mean,” Huck scratched the back of his neck and gave her a questioning look ,”thanks but no thanks? I ain’t got a clue what your daddy was thinkin’, but I ain’t a church goer”.

“He knows, but he thinks having the infamous Huckleberry Finn show up in his Sunday bests at church would really ‘re-invent your image’” Becky put the last part in finger quotation marks ,”personally, I ain’t got a clue what he means”.

“‘Course you don’t”.

Becky chose to ignore him ,”just get ready, please? I know you got a suit and tie, the wider must’ve given you one. Once you’re dressed we can head out”.

Huck raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms across his chest defensively ,”and if I refuse?”

“Then it’ll be my daddy draggin’ you outta here instead of me”.

It didn’t take him more than ten minutes to be out the door in his best shined shoes and nicest bow tie and suspenders. In reality, Huck hated how he looked. Tom pulled off the look perfectly, but not him, with the way Huck’s shoulders didn’t fit snug like Tom’s, or how Tom’s bicep was shown perfectly through the sleeve, or how-

Huck decided to stop himself before his thoughts got any further.

Becky didn’t look so bad either, he noted, trying to distract himself now. The young woman tied her strawberry blond hair up in a tight bun, exposing her freckles that decorated sharp cheekbones even more. Huck couldn’t help but feel that they were more intimidating than attractive.

“So, why’s your old man takin’ such a likin’ to me?” Huck decided to ask as the church came into view ,”he never bothered with me before, ‘cept when Tom and I found old Murrel’s gold”.

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Becky shrugged and kept on her way with him ,”he doesn’t keep me in the know,” she let out a chuckle ,”sometimes he takes more interest than you than he does me”.

Huck fell silent at her words. Maybe it was sympathy, or empathy, or just plain old pity, but he felt somewhat sorry for her. It didn’t stop the bitter feelings towards her, but even if it was just for a second, Huck had the urge to give her a pat on the back.

“...sorry”.

Becky turned and cocked her head to the side ,”hm?”

“I know you heard me, I ain’t sayin’ it again, girly”.

She smirked and said nothing. Huck could tell she was satisfied.

By the time they both arrived at the church the pews were almost full. Reverend Sprague stood tall and proud in front of the christian crowd along with the balding pastor whom Huck had nothing but distaste for. Everyone in St. Petersburg could be seen bumping shoulders and muttering hail Mary's under their breaths. Amy Lawrence and her mother were kneeling in the pews with their hands to their lips, whispering prayers and hymns to themselves. Mister Dobbins was blessing himself with the provided holy water and scolding a young child when she went in the building without doing the same. Mary and Sid Sawyer were talking to Doctor Mitchells like it was just some regular social gathering. Huck then realized it probably was to them, that this was a regular occurrence, and that he was the only one feeling uncomfortable.

“What a shame,” Becky sighed, drawing Huck’s attention back to her ,”Miss Polly Sawyer had to stay home again”.

Huck blinked in confusion ,”has she not been to church? I thought the old lady was the most adamant follower of the lord in the damn town”.

Becky looked at him as if he were the most ignorant person in Missouri, but said nothing of the sort. She simply scrunched her brow together and said ,”she’s not well”.

“Oh,” was all Huck had to say.

The two made their way through the isles, noting the shocked expressions and glares that were sent in Huck’s path. Whispers of judgement and surprise hit his ears like a punch, instantly making him regret waking up that morning. One mother pulled her daughter close to her chest, as if her womanhood would somehow protect the child from the big bad town orphan. It made Huck’s blood boil.

Huck hurried to his seat and sat down next to the waiting Judge Thatcher, whom he must have startled because when Huck sat down the old man practically jumped out of his seat. When he finally evaluated the situation, Judge Thatcher laughed and patted the young man on the back.

“Huckleberry, my boy, I’m glad you made it,” he smiled and shook his hand ,”I was worried my daughter wouldn’t be able to convince you to come”.

“I’m sure she’s more capable than you think, sir” Huck said quickly, knowing that if Becky had the chance to hear him he would never be able to live it down. She did, nonetheless, and gave him a shocked look followed by a smile.

Judge Thatcher cocked his head to the side and nodded ,”perhaps”.

When the preacher cleared his throat and began, they were shushed and forced to keep quiet. Huck noticed that it was only when he was forced to stay still that he noticed how uncomfortable he was in every part of his body. How his feet hurt and how his nose itched and how his back was sore. He tried to sit to down and quietly take off his shoes so no one would notice, but Becky was more observant than he thought. She sent a glare his way and lightly slapped his arm, keeping him from sitting down and earning an annoyed grumble from him.

Huck couldn’t understand half of the religious propaganda the preacher was throwing at him. “Thou shalt not steal” this and “thou shalt love thy mother and father” this. Huck was more of a “thou shalt shut the fuck up” kind of man.

After what seemed like an eternity, the religious droning of bullshit seemed to end with one last hymn from the choir. Huck looked up hopefully, knowing that this was the indication for the end of their church session. He remembered being in his younger teenage years, standing next to the Widow Douglas in the pews, excitedly hurrying out of the church as fast as possible. Before Huck resorted to swinging his legs and making a break for it, Becky stopped him.

“The preacher wants to make an announcement,” she said harshly. 

Huck held back a groaned and forced himself not to bang his head on the seats in front of him. This was going to more hellish than he first imagined.

“Dear folks of St. Pete,” the preacher had a nasally voice that made Huck’s ears hurt ,”I ask that you stay for a few moments longer so you can hear my words”.

“You’ve done enough talkin’” Huck mumbled, earning him Becky’s hand gripping his arm even harder.

“As you know, many of our boys- I apologize, many or our  _ men _ ,” the preacher chuckled to himself, but no one joined in ,”have journeyed off to join the military, in a way to support The Confederate States of America”.

Huck’s nails dug into the wooden seats so hard they cracked.

“We ask you to donate any resources or spare money you have-”.

His knuckles turned white.

“-so we can help aid these brave young men-”.

His vision was blurring with anger.

“-and build a future where we can live a peaceful life without the oppressive nature of the Union!”

Applause rang in Huck’s ears, making him deaf to all of his senses. He wanted to scream, he wanted to punch the preacher in the face, punch them all in the face. He hated them. He hated this. He hated it all.

“Huck,” he heard a voice call out to him ,”Huck, are you alright?”

Becky was shaking his shoulder, trying her best to get him to come back to his sense. He blinked, looked at her, and looked back to his hands, only to realize he clenched his fists so hard that his nails broke skin.

“You okay?” she asked again.

His breath was uneven ,”get me outta here, please”.

She nodded, leading him through the crowd and outside of the building. Judge Thatcher followed, clearly annoyed but said nothing. Huck needed to breath. He felt like he was choke.

When they finally reached salvation out of the building or ironic damnation, Huck whipped around and jabbed a finger at the Judge’s chest, anger flaring in his eyes.

“You  _ knew _ that was gonna happen, didn’t you?” Huck spat, saliva splattering on the old man’s shoes ,”you did this to me on purpose!”

“I didn’t know,” the judge tried to sound calm but ferocity shone in his words ,”I didn’t know he was gonna say that, you ignorant boy”.

Becky tried to soothe her father ,”papa, please- “.

“Quiet!” Judge Thatcher shouted, not even bothering to look at the young woman ,”know your place, Rebecca”.

The judge turned his attention back to Huck ,”I didn’t plan on the preacher sayin’ such things. I brought you here to give you a new image, to show that you’re better than what they think”.

“Why do you care, though!?” Huck could feel his heart pounding on is chest like someone was punching him over and over again ,”everyone else hates me, why don’t you!?”

“Because I made a promise to my friend!” the words sent Huck aback ,”I promised Miss Douglas that I would make you into the finest young man this town has ever damn seen. I promised to keep her business going, and the key to doing that is to make you thrive”.

Huck stared down at his feet, hating the shoes he saw. The button up became more and more uncomfortable, until he couldn’t take it. He ripped his shirt off and kicked his feet free of the shoes, making his socks follow in suit. The judge stared at him as if he was crazy, but didn’t intervene.

“So, the wider didn’t actually care about me?” Huck harshly laughed, now newly stripped down to only his pants ,”she just wanted an heir?”

“Huckleberry, that’s not- “.

“So no one in this world actually cares about me, then! I’m just a piece of trash you people see dollar signs in!”

“You’re delusional, son-”.

“Call me son one more time and see what happens!” Huck screamed ,”I am  _ not _ like you! I can’t run a business like you!”

The three were silent for a moment, the only thing heard being Huck’s heavy breathing. Guilt drowned Huck in a tidal wave and he had stop to catch his breath. The two pairs of eyes watching him bored into his skin like the hot fire poker his father liked to use too much.

“I-I’m sorry…” Huck said just above a whisper, but the Thatcher’s heard him just fine ,”I’m sorry- “.

“Did you see that?” Judge Thatcher grinned to the two young adults in front of him and ran up to Huck, grabbing him by the shoulders and held him like he was a trophy ,”did you see that passion you just had? It was extraordinary!”

“...what?”

“You’re not ignorant, you’re not stupid. You’re strong and passionate just like that Sawyer boy. This is why I want you to work with me. Even if I didn’t promise Miss Douglas, I’d still see potential in you,” Judge Thatcher paused to catch his breath ,”Huckleberry Finn, you have to take this opportunity”. 

“He won’t take no for an answer,” Becky chimed in.

Huck looked at the judge, then to the girl, then back to the judge. Everything he ever believed him was going through his mind, either telling him to take it and be the man he always wanted to be, or to run away as soon as possible so no one could find him ever again. Forget the confederacy fighting the union, Huck had his own civil war in his head

“...fine,” he finally said ,”as long as you don’t try to shove your confederate propaganda down my gullet, I can do what you want”.

Judge Thatcher let out a sigh of relief and clasped his hands together ,”I’m glad this went easily! Now, we have options; continuing the business the way it is, turning it over to either me or the town, or if you’d like we can sell it to a private association-”.

Huck stopped him ,”Judge?”

“Yes?”

“For Pete's sake stop talkin’, you’re makin’ my head hurt”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the note at the beginning of the chapter, you can probably tell this should've been up earlier but school hates me and had other plans. I hate not updating regularly, I'm really sorry.  
> Summers almost here though! The only thing I have planned is theater and college trips so I have sooo much free time.


	12. Sock ole Grant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just lazy and constantly fall ill
> 
> Me: lets write a serious war story  
> Me to me: make it cheesy and cliche

_~~My Dearest~~ Dear Huckleberry Douglas-Finn,_

_Howdy, Hucky._ _I know that ain't the formal way to start a letter, and this ain't the formal way to WRITE a letter, but I ain't one for restrictions and rules, now am I? You understand, you're the same exact way, all rebellious and stuff. It’s odd to write to you instead of talking to you face to face, but there ain’t no other choice, I guess. You know I ain’t the best writer, but neither are you, so you can’t go and judge me._

_I know it's only been about a month since I left (has it been a month? I ain't been keeping track) but gosh darn do I miss St. Pete. The Mississippi water, the woods, Mary's cooking, and even the old watermill we used to hang around at all have my name on it right about now. I'm missing you too, Huck, a heck of a lot. ~~I'm missing your touch and attention~~ I'm missing your company. _

_It ain't that bad here, though. It's rough, for sure, but I got Joe by my side, and Jeff as well. Ben sometimes, when he ain't being a kiss ass to our superiors. I ain't got a clue as to what has gotten into him. He used to be so laid back, now all he cares about is this training and this war. It ain't like him. To be fair, it also ain't like me to judge others. At least, I hope it's not like me. It definitely ain't like you._

_I made some friends while I was training. There's this boy in my tent named Oliver who's got all these crazy stories about growing up in St. Louis. Another kid in the tent next to mine is from Jackson City, a blond kid named Albert. I beat him up during training but that don't matter none more. They're both mighty cool, if I do say so myself._

_How are you? I've been too busy rambling to pop that question. How's the fishing expo? I'm sure it's doing great, ~~I have more faith in you than anyone else~~ I got faith in you. You'll do great because ~~you're so amazing~~ you're hardworking._

_Don't get into trouble with anyone while I'm gone, alright? That includes Judge Thatcher and Becky. They're good people, don't shut them out. Stop by my house when you have the chance. Help Mary out if you can, just don't let Aunt Polly see you. Lord knows she'd have a heart attack if you were in our house._

_I hope all is well and stays well, ~~my dear~~ Huck._

_~~With love~~ Sincerely,_

_Private Thomas Sawyer_

Tom’s eyes scanned over the words on the paper so many times his eyes grew sore and tired. The black ink puddles of when he crossed out every phrase he was too afraid to say caught his attention too many times. Phrases that felt right to him but scary to everything else.

The idea of writing a letter was odd to him. Tom never had to be so far away from anyone that he couldn’t simply walk down the street and see their face. His written words felt planned and fake, not like the raw emotions he’d be able to express if he were really talking to Huck. Everything about it seemed superficial.

With how engrossed he was in the piece of parchment, Tom didn’t realize everyone in his tent had gathered and were enjoying the one night off they had gotten in a while. He swiveled around on his old, worn out cot and saw all of his bunkmates and other friends sitting around each other, shooting shit and taking swigs of the liquor one of them had stolen (Tom figured Ben was the thief).

It had been a while since any of them had been able to relax at all. The constant drills and training had tired them all physically and mentally. Tom couldn’t remember the last time he smiled. Tom Sawyer, the young man who didn’t know how to stop joking around and throwing his smirk around, couldn’t even remember when the last time he smiled.

“Tom!” a voice called out from behind the young man,” stop worryin’ about the letter and join us!”

The voice belonged to Joe, who was spread out on his own cot and enjoying his leisure time. Tom looked around and saw all the people he was familiar with, whether they originated from St. Petersburg or he knew them from their training drills.

“Alright, alright,” Tom carefully hid the letter under his pillow and scooted closer towards the other guys,” don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m here”.

“Who was you writin’ to?” Oliver, the young man from St. Louis, asked and leaned forward with anticipation,” was it your parents?”

Tom shook his head,” I ain’t got the privilege of parents”.

That’s when a snicker escaped the lips of Ben Rogers sitting in the corner,” I bet it was that sweetheart of his, Becky Thatcher”.

Oliver tilted his head in confusion, “Becky Thatcher?”

“One cannot describe Becky Thatcher in any other way, but as the ripest peach to ever grow in Missouri. With hair as bright as the sun and eyes as blue as the Mississippi- “.

“The Mississippi is muddy, Ben,” Jeff cut in.

“-she truly is the loveliest girl you’ll ever see,” Ben ignored the interruption,” well, maybe beside Amy Lawrence. Both are pure beauties! And the best part, they’ve both got the nicest, most plump set of breasts you’ll ever damn see- “.

“Will you cut it out?!” Jeff cut him off once more, but this time with more anger and impatience,” that’s my cousin your talkin’ about!”

Ben smirked and took another sip of whiskey,” just because you can’t idle at her, doesn’t mean I can’t”.

“You’re disgustin’”.

“I’m a _gentleman_ ”.

“Hey,” a meek protest arose from Oliver’s throat,” that’s a human bein’ you’re talkin’ about. Cut it out.”

Ben stared for a moment, nothing but silencing lingering on his lips, until he shrugged his shoulders and fell back against his pillow. Everyone expected insults and cusses to erupt from Ben’s throat, but he simply hummed in response, swirling the liquor in the bottle he held.

“Well, I guess I ain’t here to talk about beautiful women,” Ben finally said,” I’m here to be a soldier”.

“Mhm,” Joe nodded,” we’re all here just to do our duty and fight”.

“Hah!” Ben barked out,” I ain’t just lookin’ to fight. I’m lookin’ to _win!_ I’m here to sock ole Grant in the jaw and send him flyin’ on his ass!”

“Ulysses S. Grant?” Jeff couldn’t help but to roll his eyes,” as if _you_ could land a punch on him.”

“I bet you I can!” Ben leaped up from his cot and stood triumphantly above all the other young men,” I bet I can stand my ground against Grant _and_ Lincoln!”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Full of greatness!” Ben barked out a harsh laugh,” I’ll take down those abolitionist bastards! Right, Tom?”

 Except Tom wasn’t paying attention.  His mind halted and his thoughts ran silent at the ring of the word ‘abolitionist’. It wasn’t a foreign word, in fact it was commonplace in both their camps and in their hometown. The word brought a negative tone and a hostile impact, at least where he was familiar with. He looked around the room at the eyes that surveyed him. His eyes went from Joe, to Ben, to Jeff, to Oliver, and then they fell to the hands in his lap. They were shaking. He couldn’t tell why.

“…Tom?” Ben called out again,” earth to Tom?”

“Hm?” Tom perked his head up,” oh, yeah, sure.”

“Get your head out of the clouds, Sawyer!” Ben threw a pillow at him, “leave the day dreamin’ behind in St. Pete”.

“M’just thinkin’ is all”.

“Thinkin’s about Becky?”

That prompted her to try and picture the young woman from his home town, who was probably in bed dreaming away as he thought. He always thought she looked so peaceful when she slept, the lines of worry disappearing from her face.

He tried to picture her smile, her hair, her eyes, anything to get her full image in his head. The vision of strawberry blond locks entered his mind, as well as pale skin splattered with freckles that was as soft as silk. It was peaceful. Tom was peaceful.

The hair then turned brown as it grew shorter and shorter.

Freckles turned to scars that littered over now tanned skin.

The hands he pictured holding were no longer the small, delicate ones he was used to. They were larger, calloused and rough from the years of hard work. Hands that knew what they were doing. Hands that Tom preferred so much more.

He could never say, though. Never

“Yeah,” Tom nodded, solemnly,” thinkin’ about Becky.”

* * *

 

There was a spot on the roof of the Widow Douglas’s manor that allowed anyone of any size to law and gaze at the sky, whether it be to watch the clouds roll by or to idle at the stars. Getting up there was the tricky part. You had to climb up the shed on the side, hoist yourself up onto a window sill, and then pull yourself onto the roof, which allowed you to crawl over to the desired spot. Huck figured out about it when he first moved in with the widow, when he was only thirteen. It wasn’t uncommon for him to strip away the stiff, preppy clothes that trapped him like handcuffs and chains, and to climb his way up to the roof top to do nothing but lay out in his undergarments under the stars. He couldn’t recall if even Tom knew about his hideout, because it was the one place left that he felt truly to himself. No one to bother him except himself.

Now, only a short while away from voting age, Huck Finn lay stretched out on the rooftop, pipe in hand and shoes discarded. It was in the late hours of the night (or early hours of the morning. Huck had a tendency to lose track of time) and the only thing the young man was looking to do was to stay there for as long as he could and even longer. It had been a while since he had the privilege to be by himself for longer than a minute and couldn’t be anymore grateful. No business. No fishing expo. No worries at all.

And that’s when someone chucked a rock at his head.

“ _Dammit!_ ” Huck hissed out and rubbed his forehead where he was struck. He poked his head out over the siding and glared through the darkness,” who’s lookin’ to fight?”

Huck’s hardened expression fell when he realized it was Becky.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you!” Becky frantically apologized, keeping her voice down,” I just wanted to get your attention!”

“Well, you’ve got it,” Huck couldn’t help but to laugh nervously,” why you out so late? It ain’t safe for a girl to be alone.”

Becky looked around, as if to make sure no one was around. Huck figured she had snuck out, and by the looks of it, this was her first time doing so.

“I want to talk to you,” she said,” please come down?”

Huck nodded and began his way down. He could tell Becky was getting nervous watching him, so in all his shining glory, he hopped from the window sill he was standing on and did a flip in the air, just barely landing on his feet.

“That’s not funny!” Becky hissed through her teeth,” you could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

He smirked “afraid of getting’ my blood on your new shoes?”

“No,” she mumbled,” I don’t want to see you hurt”.

There was no response, Huck couldn’t find one.

“I-I just…” Becky paused for a moment so she could take a deep breath before continuing,” I want to tell you never let yourself be forced into whatever my papa wants you to do”.

“…huh?”

“I sound crazy, but he’s persistent and wants to get his way. He _is_ lookin’ to help you and do good, but never be forced into it. Please”.

Huck couldn’t help but chuckle,” this could’ve waited ‘till mornin’.”

“I couldn’t sleep without tellin’ you”.

“You look like you can’t sleep ever”.

He wasn’t lying when he said it. Her usually bright blue eyes looked dull and stormy in the moonlight, decorated with dark circles that hung low against her excessively pale skin. For a second, Huck thought she looked like a ghost.

Becky shrugged,” I’ve got too much to worry about to sleep”.

“Don’t stress yourself out,” Huck said, a trace of worry lingering in his words,” you can’t stretch yourself thin.”

“Speak for yourself”.

“I’m bein’ serious”.

She smirked and gave him an amused look,” the tables have turned now, haven’t they?”

Huck let out a small chuckle,” I guess so”.

Both were silent for a moment, not out of being uncomfortable, but for the first time being comfortable enough to stay quiet. Her presence grew warmer and warmer every single time Huck would see her. It was strange, but he wasn’t anywhere near complaining about it.

“Hey,” the young woman finally spoke up,” how ‘bout we go to the harvest festival together?”

He blinked in confusion,” with me? You ain’t worried about muddying up your reputation by being seen with Huck Finn?”

“We can use the ‘re-inventing your image’ excuse my father always talks about,” she laughed,” c’mon, it’ll be fun, and I don’t want to go alone”.

“What about Amy?”

“She’s running the tavern during the festival. It’s the biggest day for business, she can’t go with me,” Becky sighed,” if you really don’t want to- “.

“Shut up. I’ll go with you,” Huck rolled his eyes,” but if people get upset because the town rat is there, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Thank you, this means a lot,” she smiled sweetly at him,” it’s the first festival without Tom, and I didn’t want to be alone.”

After assuring him she would be perfectly safe walking home by herself, the young lady strolled her way down the dirt path that led to the other side of town. Huck was just thankful it was far away from the town bar, knowing full well this was the hour that drunken men went out and did stupid shit.

Huck thought him agreeing to go to that festival was him doing stupid shit, but at that point he didn’t care. Something about Becky’s sugar-like persona made it hard to say no to her. It made him smile as much as it did piss him off. Huck figured she was like Tom in that way; somehow being almost immune to rejection because of their infectious bubbly personalities.

“Yeah,” Huck whispered as he went inside,” like Tom”.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeff: the floor is respecting women!  
> Ben: *jumps on table*
> 
> it's important to note that neither lincoln nor grant were abolitionists and wanted to end slavery because the south was saving millions of dollars through free labor, causing the north to suffer financially. They didn't want to abolish slavery for the right reasons. Most of the union didn't.


	13. Shiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: kinda smutty. Sex dream, masturbation, you get the idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's midnight and I have Big River blaring through my headphones  
> (also i love becky lots)

_Everything was cold._

_Everything was dark._

_Everything was quiet._

_Goosebumps formed on Tom’s skin faster than he could think. His torso, bare and shirtless, shivered against the mattress as he desperately s_ _earched for blankets that weren’t there. His breath was visible and escaped his lips in short huffs, only causing his chest to rise in convulsion-like motions. It was the only movement Tom thought he could make._

_Tom realized the mattress that pressed into his back was softer than the stained cot he had grown used to at base. It didn’t shoot pain up his spine. It didn’t have the smell of sickness and misery. He wasn’t at camp, he couldn’t tell where he was._

_When the soft glow from the moon appeared in a haze through his window, his surrounding grew visible enough for him to comprehend where he was. He is was in a small room with two beds, one being the one he occupied, and two crosses hanging above them. It was a familiar site, one that sprouted nostalgic memories of boyish mischief in Tom’s head._

_It was his room back at St. Petersburg, the one he shared with Sid. Tom was able to let out a sigh of relief now that he knew where he was. How or why he was there, he couldn’t say. He became too focused on other things to get bent out of shape over logistics and circumstances._

_The foot of his bed sank under the weight of something Tom could just barely make out in the dark; a feminine-shaped silhouette with hair falling to it’s waist. For whatever reason, Tom had no desire to flee. He was afraid, he wasn’t in a panic, he was just still. He was calm._

_“Hi, Tom”._

_The silhouette's voice was smooth like honey, yet sultry and melodic. It rang memories of days spent in the meadows with flower crowns and laughter. He recognized Becky Thatcher’s voice anywhere._

_Becky never turned to face him, though. She simply hummed a song that Tom couldn’t name as she let her hand rub up and down the roof of Tom’s bare foot. Despite the frigid temperature, Becky was burning hot. Her touch was unbearable, uncomfortable, and borderline painful. It felt as if she was leaving a third degree burn on his foot._

_Tom slammed his eyes shut and winced, his face contorting distress as he attempted to pull his leg back, but to no success. Everything was numb and he was stuck in place. He let out a grunt of discomfort, wishing for her to stop immediately before her touch actually burned a hole in his skin._

_The hand soon grew cooler, as it did rougher and more calloused. The touch became a pleasant warm sensation that eased him from the earlier burning sensation and the frigid temperature of the room. Tom’s breathing was steady once more as he let out a comforted breath. Everything seemed more pleasant._

_As he slowly opened his eyes, he realized that the silhouette of Becky had morphed and changed into something completely different. It was a taller, now broad shouldered with immensely shorter hair. Tom didn’t have to be a genius to realize it was a man now that was gracing him with the comforting touch. It was a man’s touch, and he liked it, he liked it so much._

_The silhouette turned and Tom could only smile. Only Huck Finn could sport such alluring blue eyes and endearing round face._

_Huck climbed up onto the bed and sat on top of Tom, his expression showing nothing but passion and lust. Everything about him was warm. His grin, his eyes, his touch; Huck gave off the most comforting presence and Tom could stay in it for as long as possible._

_Tom felt Huck’s hands travel up and down his torso, all over his chest, then his sides, and then his belly. Tom had to bite his lips to endure the ticklish sensation, but lord, he loved it. He loved Huck’s fingertips dancing over his body, bringing him to the brink of laughter. He loved everything about it. He loved it so much._

_“You’re cold, Tom,” Huck whispered ,”you’re shiverin’.”_

_“Keep me warm,” Tom was close to panting ,”please, Huck.”_

_Huck understood what he meant and nodded. He lowered his body so their two torso’s collided. Tom was engulfed with a blanket-like warmth that eased his convulsing chest. Lips collided like wrecking balls as Huck arched his back into the young man underneath him. Huck traveled his lips down to Tom’s jaw, then his throat, and down to his belly._

_There was a pause before he continued. Huck looked up for permission, making sure Tom was okay with everything, and gave off a smile when Tom ran his fingers through Huck’s hair and nodded._

_“Keep me warm,” Tom whispered again as Huck’s lips traveled below Tom’s waist._

Tom didn’t jolt awake or fall out of bed with surprise like he usually did. His eyes slowly opened, only to realize he was back at camp. Back at his tent with all of his comrades. Sheets clung to him with sweat as he kicked and tried to free his limbs. Tom looked through the slip in the tent and realized it was still early enough in the morning for the nightingale to sing. It would be hours until anyone woke up. Thankfully so, because Tom was hard and refused to let anyone in earth see him in this state.

Carefully and quietly, Tom tiptoed passed his friends and slipped out of the tent as quickly as possible. His chest pounded at the thought of being caught, especially in the aroused state he was in, but he couldn’t twist and turn uncomfortably in his cot until the sunrise, he just couldn’t deal with it.

Tom walked until he felt he was far enough away. He didn’t even check to see if he was followed, he was to focused on the issue that plagued him currently, which was staring at him from in between his legs.

It wasn’t like he had never touched himself before, but now he felt so _vulnerable_ , as if he were naked in front of his entire hometown. He didn’t care how he did it, he just wanted to get it over with.

Tom slipped his hand into his pants and let his hand grasp around his hardened member. He hissed through his teeth and went to work. He figured the faster he did it, the faster he’d be done, and the faster he could forget that this ever happened.

“Tom, what the hell are you doin’?”

Fear and shame flooded Tom’s chest as he quickly cleaned himself up just as he finished. He knew it was Joe behind him, and even though Joe wouldn't tell anybody, Tom would rather die than let anyone see him like this.

Joe stepped closer and gripped onto Tom’s shoulder ,”why the hell did you leave in the middle of the night? Why-” his eyes traveled down, only to widen and for his jaw to fall ajar ,”...oh shit”.

“Joe, I- “.

“You didn’t clean yourself up well”.

“I know, but please- .”

“Never thought you were gross enough to succumb to urge and do...well _this_ out in the fucking open, Tom.”

“I couldn’t help it!” Tom hissed out ,”I couldn’t let any of guys see me with a goddamn erection all out for everyone to see!”

Joe looked at him for a moment ,”...was it a dream?”

Tom nodded.

“You can’t let yourself dream about Becky like that,” Joe groaned ,”you got bigger things to worry about than a woman’s body”.

Tom didn’t say anything, and Joe realized he was on the brink of tears.

“Wait, what’s wrong with you?” Joe’s voice faltered as realization dawned on him ,”...it wasn’t Becky”.

There was still silence.

“...was it Amy?”

Nothing.

“...oh my god, Tom, no. _Fuck no_.”

Tears slipped down Tom’s face as he hung his head low in shame.

“Y-you cannot do this. Not Huck. Not fucking Huck,” Joe was hyperventilating ,”Tom they’ll fucking kill you. Tell me your joking, for the love of all this good and holy tell me this is a joke”.

“I’m sorry,” was all Tom could say.

“Okay, okay,” Joe tried to remain calm ,”it was just one dream. Might mean nothing, right? Right?”

Again, no reply.

Joe’s face fell ,”...this ain’t the first time”.

Tom nodded. By this point, he was openly sobbing his eyes out.

They were both quiet for a moment, only the sounds of sobs and shaky breaths being heard. Both of them felt like their hearts were in their throats, choking them and making it hard to breath.

Joe finally spoke ,”we ain’t letting anyone know”.

Tom nodded once again.

“It’ll be okay, we can keep this a secret,” Joe saw Tom sink to his knees as he was wracked with tears ,”hey, c’mere”.

Joe knelt down to his friends level and wrapped his arms around him. Tom didn’t hesitate and fall into his chest, gripping onto his shirt and sobbing his heart out.

“I got you, don’t worry,” Joe shushed and rubbed his back ,”it’ll be okay. Tom”.

“I-I’m so cold,” Tom could barely be understood through the tears ,”I can’t take it anymore”.

“I won’t let anything bad happen, buddy, I’ve got you”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe: you know what bro  
> Tom: what bro  
> Joe: we should get matching anchor tattoos bro  
> Tom: why bro  
> Joe so our BROSHIP will never drift away  
> Tom, in tears: bro...


	14. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's practically filler. Ive never seen so mucn dialogue

There was no law set in place forbidding it, but it was a widely accepted rule that Huckleberry Finn was not allowed to partake in any town events. If the boy was caught, the sheriff would be forced to escort him away due to popular complaint. The sheriff always apologized to Huck when he had to do it, but Huck always shrugged and went along with it. He was used to it, after all. He was used to being an outsider.

Now, as a young man and a town representative, no one was able to complain about his presence. Huck was there, and the ornery townsfolk just had to deal with it.

Even now, though, Huck couldn’t say he was much for festivals. The crowds of people, the lights, the noise, the music; it all made him feel claustrophobic and suffocated. If it weren’t for Becky, he wouldn’t dare step out of his house the night of the harvest festival.

However, he promised. Huck was a lot of things, but man who was not true to his word was not one them.

Huck had a to-do list for the festival: meet Becky at her manor, survive the night, and get back to his place in one piece.

He looked at Margaret before he headed out and mentally added ‘get her a dress to match Julia’s’ to the list.

Looking around, Huck found it hard to believe that such a small, trivial town had the gusto to throw such an extravagant event. Candle lights were set everywhere, illuminating the stands of fruit and vegetables and excited people around the town. The sound of an orchestra could be heard in the distance, but Huck was too focused on all the side glances he was receiving. The old man who scoffed in his direction, the mother who pulled her son close to her breasts as some sort of protection from the town ragamuffin; Huck saw it all but couldn’t find the energy to care anymore. He’s been there, and he’s done that. No use stressing over tradition.

Huck was already contemplating asking Becky if it was alright to just do something another night when the entire town wasn’t outside and giving him a headache but discarded the thought when he saw how excited she was outside of her house waiting for him. Huck wasn’t much for physical appearance, but even he had to admit that Becky looked beautiful that night. She had let her hair down and allowed it to fall in golden waves down her back, letting his frame her freckled face perfectly elegant. Her usual blue modest dress was replaced with a casual red gown that sat nicely around her neck and tied at the waist. For a moment, Huck almost called her gorgeous out loud. Almost.

“Oh, Huckleberry!” Becky sighed in relief at the sight of him ,”for a moment I thought you weren’t plannin’ on comin’.”

“I said I would take you, didn’t I?” he gave her a small smile, though it wasn’t as genuine as he wanted it to be ,”you look… nice.”

“Why thank you,” she grinned and twirled around ,”you dressed yourself up, too”.

Huck shrugged. He didn’t like wearing button ups, and a belt instead of suspenders, and he  _ hated  _ shoes, but he dealt with it, just like he dealt with all the trivial tasks of civilized life. It was annoying, but it wasn’t up for praise.

“I’m not one for dressing up,” he scratched the back of his neck ,”but I figured I had to do something with my appearance if I was to be being around the richest girl in town”.

Becky tilted her head and furrowed her brow ,”you don’t have to think like that.”

“Hm?”

“I can’t say I care if you dress how you’d want to dress,” she said ,”I asked for your company, not for you to look impressive. Though the proper attire is a bonus.”

“Saying that makes me want to run around with my shoes off”.

Becky laughed, except that he wasn’t fully joking.

Huck let Becky lead him through the event, her hand wrapped around his wrist as she weaved her way through the crowd. He caught glimpses of surprised looks thrown their way, as if to say she shouldn’t be around him. No one said anything, but once their eyes caught the two young adults side by side, they couldn’t hide their surprise – or disgust. The glares he received made it seem as if he were wearing a sign that read “hey! I do awful stuff like corrupt your children and shove elderly woman!”.

Becky was the first to speak through out the festival ,”anything you lookin’ to get specifically?”

“A dress,” Huck replied bluntly.

“...you want to get a dress for yourself?”

“What? No! Well, I have worn a dress before, but that’s besides the point. I’m getting it for Margaret so she can match with Julia.”

“Oh, well,” Becky smiled for a moment ,”why don’t I give you one of my old dresses?”

“I don’t need charity.”

“Listen, numbskull, it ain’t charity. All of my dresses are handmade and one of a kind. You’re not find a better dress out there.”

All Huck could think was how typically rich she was.

Eventually, he did give in, much to Becky’s joy. It took Huck aback to see Becky happy to help him, the eagerness prevalent on her face. Everything she seemed to do confused him. She was behind a wall of wealth, but nothing about her attitude seemed to scream privilege. It was the only thing Huck could think about. He figured maybe this was why Tom had liked her when they were twelve.

“Oh, goodness!” Becky exclaimed, grabbing Huck’s attention to what she was doing, which was trying all the food that the vendors offered, ”Huck, you must try this”.

“What in tarnation is it?”

“Just try it, it’s good!” Becky insisted. Huck rolled his eyes and snatched it away from her and plopped it in his mouth. Admittedly, it wasn’t bad. Huck even broke a grin.

“Fried catfish”, he smiled ,”I haven’t had this in a long time.”

“It sounds like the kind of thing Huck FInn would have a lot.”

“I used to lots, but ever since movin’ in with the wider and such, the most I eat is steak. They try to give me pastries but I ain't into them. Too sweet.”

“Shame, I love pastries.”

“Tom does too,” Huck pointed out ,”boy has such a sweet tooth, it’s disgustin’.”

“Does he?” she asked ,”never noticed.”

“Yeah, he does. To be fair, Tom likes to eat everything. Never seen a man eat so much.”

Becky laughed ,”Tom does have quite the appetite. My mama once said the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“Only partly true,” Huck said as he began walking again, ushering Becky to follow, which she did ,”men do like food, but me personally, I can only assume I’d like someone I get along with.”

“Only assume?” the young woman’s tone showed confusion ,”you mean you’ve never liked a woman before?”

Huck realized how much he had told her about himself, and didn’t know if he was uncomfortable or not. Everything seemed to slip out naturally, but he still withdrew enough to keep himself safe. That was his main priority.

“No, no women has ever caught my attention,” Huck said as he jammed his fists in his pockets ,”don’t think it’s all that important.”

“...I guess it’s not.”

The two walked around more as the sky grew deeper into night’s shade. Huck couldn’t say he hated it, but he also couldn’t say he was having the best of times. One woman gasped when he saw him and took a few steps back, which really didn’t help to improve his mood. However, Becky was happy, and Huck knew Tom would want her to be happy. He’d do a hell of a lot for Tom, and to his annoyance, this was once of them.

At this point in his life, Huck had grown past pettiness towards Becky. He didn’t get annoyed at her sight pr her voice anymore, and her company was fine enough. The only thing surrounding Becky Thatcher now was just misunderstanding, to say the least. She was an enigma to him. Everything she did baffled him and made him understand her less and less. Why did she want to hang out with him? How is she like her father? How  _ isn’t  _ she like her father? With every moment came more questions and less answers Huck had to give.

Huck heard Becky sigh and withdrew from his thoughts.

“You’re not enjoyin’ yourself, are you Huckleberry?” she asked, arms folded across her chest.

“I mean, I don’t hate it,” Huck answered honestly with a hand scratching the back of his neck. Is that how you talk to girls who look less than happy. Huck wants to know.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, so feel free to leave,” she didn’t sound condescending or annoyed when she said it, just matter of fact. 

“Alright, alright, I have an idea,” he said and pointed towards the east side of town ,”you ever been to the river at night? If there’s any place to be when the sun ain’t it’s the river.”

Becky was silent for a moment before speaking ,”you seriously don’t have to stay around me if you don’t want to right now.”

“I’m tryin’ to make you feel a little better about tonight and honestly, woman, you’re not makin’ this easy”.

Her eyes narrowed ,”call me by my name, why don’t ya.”

“Becky, you’re not makin’ this easy”.

That got her to chuckle. Huck considered it a victory.

“Fine, show me the river,” Becky gave in ,”but any funny business and I won’t hesitate to throw you in the water.”

“Feisty,” Huck smirked and began to weave through the crowd towards the edge of town, and eventually the river banks.

It didn’t take long to arrive. Huck knew all the shortcuts to the forest from all the times he had quickly snuck away into the trees to avoid the townsfolk. Or during his time under the Widow Douglas when he would escape the manor at night and make his way to the river without being seen. In summary, Huck took a lot of steps to be by himself by the place he called home.

By the time they arrived to the riverbank, the stars had already filled the sky and could be seen dancing along the surface of the water. When Huck was younger and living by himself, he used to dive into the river and pretend he was swimming in the sky. It was the closest he could get to the real deal.

“You come down here a lot?” Becky asked.

“Yeah,” Huck let out a slightly embarrassed laugh ,”all the time, honestly.”

“It’s quite lovely.”

“It sure is. It’s even lovelier to live on a raft.”

Becky grimaced ,”that sounds awful.”

“It ain’t nothin’ but lovely!” Huck pointed at the river ,”out om the water, experiencing the danger and the beauty all in one. Nothin’ can compare!”

“Y’know, I’m sure Tom would say somethin’ similar, about livin’ on a raft and all”.

“He probably would,” Huck admitted.

“It’s astonishin’ how much you two resemble one another, Huck.”

“I guess, but Tom’s better, a lot better. Smarter, funnier, handsomer, likeab- “.

“Wait,” Becky giggled behind her hand ,”you think Tom’s handsome?”

Huck gave her a weird look ,”you don’t?”

“Well, of course  _ I  _ do, just never thought I hear a man call another man handsome.”

“...is it that weird.”

“It’s just more expected for me to call him handsome.”

Huck grumbled ,”I really don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“It’s just what’s socially accepted.”

“Well,  _ I’m  _ not socially acceptable. You being around me ain’t socially acceptable. Why the hell should it matter?”

Becky simply shrugged and twiddled her thumbs. Silence wasn’t something Huck would credit her for, but now he simply watched her think.

“...you and Tom,” she said, barely above a whisper ,”you’re very close, right?”

He nodded ,”yes ma’am.”

“Has he written to you since he left?”

The letter he received the other day popped into his mind, and he couldn’t help but let his face heat up ,”yeah, yeah he has. Why?”

She didn’t answer.

“Becky?”

“He hasn’t written me anything,” she finally choked out. Huck didn’t see any tears, but the strain in her voice indicated an inevitable sob ,”I was holding on hope that he hasn’t written to anybody, but that’s all gone.”

Huck shifted where he sat. He didn’t know how to deal with emotions all to well, that goes for himself and other people.

“I don’t know what to say,” Huck answer, honestly ,”I’m sorry.”

Becky quickly wiped away her tears and took a deep breath ,”it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.”

“I’m not stupid,” she continue ,”I-I know that Tom has his interests elsewhere. That loving gaze I had grown used to? It’s gone. I haven’t seen it in over two years. I know when someone doesn’t love me.”

Any sense of placidity that once lingered had drowned itself in the river. Huck kept his gaze down at his feet while the young woman spoke on, fearing that if they made eye contact he’d get hurt. With a tightened chest and a lump in his throat, Huck Finn stayed as silent as ever.

It was a silent agreement to head back. Becky insiste that she could walk herself back, but Huck knew if anything happened to her while she was by herself, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. The town’s festivities had simmered own, most families having heade indoors for the night. Still, lingering adults frequented the streets, along with the drunks who had been kicked out of the bar. Among them, Huck saw Muff Potter, who looked as pathetic as ever. Huck hated alcohol, and swore he hate all alcoholics, but couldn’t help but just feel sorry for Muff. The man had never done anything wrong in his life, and yet he was downing liquor and destroying his life faster than Huck could account for.

“My house is right there, Huck,” Becky said ,”I can walk from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she insisted, since the house was visible by then ,”I’ll bring you the dress for Margaret tomorrow morning.”

With that, she left, an Huck was alone. Well, alone until he dragged Muff’s ass away from the crowd.

“I swear to god old man you’re gonna get yourself killed,” Huck grumbled as he sat Huck down against the tavern ,”you worry me.”

“Sorry, friend,” Muff smiled and hiccuped ,”don’t mean to worry the boy who saved my hide from a murder charge.”

“That was Tom, Muff.”

“Was it? Oh, but you helped so don’t be modest.”

“Anyways,” Muff chuckled and patted the the young man on the shoulder ,”you and Thatcher’s daughter, eh?”

Huck didn’t understand what Muff was implying at first, but realization dawned on him quickly as he immediately began sputtering out an explanation.

“No! No way!” Huck put his hands up in defense ,”she only asked me to go because she didn’t want to be alone.”

“She wanted a date.”

“Yes- wait no! Shut the hell up, Muff, you’re drunk!”

“That may be,” Muff laughed and hiccuped a the same time ,”but at least I didn’t go on a date with a girl an not even know about it.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Am I? Or is Rebecca Thatcher trying to replace Tom with you?”

It id make Huck think for a moment. Becky was sweet to him, generous, and everything that the townsfolk weren’t. It’s not that hard to believe.

Muff continued ,”is she using her pappy’s interest in you to support her own interest in you?”

“Muff,” Huck’s voice sounded exhausted, which it was ,”even if that were true, which it isn’t because she’s not like that, it didn’t work. I have no interest in her, or any woman.”

“Ah yes, that’s right, Huckleberry Finn doesn’t date,” Muff chuckled ,”well, date women, that is.”

“What the hell are you implying, old man?”

“I’m just saying, kid, you’re already low down and dirty, you might as well accept all of your low down and dirty ways”.

“I don’t get it.”

“I’m talkin’ Tom Sawyer, ya little bastard,” he wasn’t belligerent when he said it, most lighthearted and jokingly ,”I won’t go into more details because unless I’m wrong, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

Huck stayed silent for a moment.

“They say you shouldn’t tell a lie, Huck, so don’t tell them to yourself”.

* * *

 

After making sure Muff was safe for the night, Huck headed back to his own place. Everyone was asleep, tucked away into their corridors as if they were hiding. Huck liked the peace and quiet, it was something he wasn’t able to experience often.

Huck made it up to his room and threw himself onto his bed, sinking into the sheets and the mattress with a feeling of comfort. He reached under his pillow and retrieved a folded up piece of parchment that he had hidden away. He didn’t want anyone seeing Tom’s letter but himself.

Muff’s words rang clear in his mind, even though he was trying to forget them. The best excuse Huck could come up with was that Muff Potter was a crazy drunk bastard who didn’t know what he was talking about and said things because of his lack of dignity.

It didn’t convince him, though. He hated drunks, but he didn’t hate Muff.

As he quickly unfolded the parchment, he let his eyes scan over the words over and over again until they burned. Huck carefully held the letter to his chest and let himself steady his breath. His heart was beating fast and his finger were twitching. For a moment, Huck thought he was about to spaz out, but he didn’t.

The letter should’ve meant nothing. It could’ve been nothing. Just a friendly letter from one friend to another. It should’ve meant absolutely nothing.

So why did it feel like something.

The fact that Tom wrote to Huck instead of Becky was a thought that wouldn’t leave his head. Tom Sawyer chose Huck Finn, the ragamuffin, over Becky Thatcher, the beautiful girl in town. It made absolutely no sense to him, and it wouldn’t make sense to anyone. Tom was a little eccentric, but he wasn’t stupid.  _ Why did he choose Huck? _

_ “They say you shouldn’t tell a lie, Huck, so don’t tell them to yourself”. _

With the memory of Muff’s words, Huck finally realized what he meant, and it scared the ever loving shit out of him.

It should’ve been obvious to him, but it was buried so deep down that Huck could barely feel it’s presence. It started out as a hopeful wish when he was younger, and turned into a muffled battlecry as he got older. Everytime it came up, he represse it more and more until he tricked himself into thinking it was gone.

It never was.

Everything he as taught told him it was wrong, that it was disgusting. It was a sin that only preachers dared to speak about, and everytime it left their tongues, it was an angry scream that condemned the act in the name of God. Mothers feared it, fathers hated it, and children didn’t understand it.

Huck was doomed to burn for sure.

Huck couldn’t help but smirk. He’s going to suffer eternal damnation for freeing a slave, why not be punished for loving a man too?

“Alright then, I’ll go to hell.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on not updating for a month, but stuff got hectic. I had to leave state for a week unexpectidly for a funeral, my illustrations for a book were lost so I had to redo half of them, an I've been taking extra shifts at my summer work to save up money. I'm really sorry, I had no intention of leaving you guys hanging. Just know I read all your comments, and even though I didn't respond to them out of physical and emotional exhaustion, I appreciate them and all of you so very much


	15. Carnifex Ferry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are allowed to message me on Tumblr and be like "hey bitch update your story"

The water Tom was mindlessly staring at didn’t look like thirty feet deep muddy water like he was use to. It was clearer, allowing him to just see the river bottom. He couldn’t help but wonder what lay there, untouched by man and time. Memories of treasure hunting with Huck flooded in; the two of them stark-naked as they waded in the Mississippi looking for forgotten gold. The most they got from the river was rocks and old discarded garments, but it never stopped them. Murrel’s gold was the first, and the last, treasure they had ever touched. It was their legacy, and it had brought them both glory, and misery.

“Get your head out of the clouds and focus, Sawyer”.

Tom rolled his eyes and sat back in the boat. Jeff shook his head in disappointment, prompting Tom to growl in his direction. They were all tired and miserable, and it clearly thickened the atmosphere with aggression.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

“I hate this,” Tom grumbled and rubbed his eyes.

“ _ This  _ is what you signed up for”.

“Fuck off, Jeff, nowhere in the job description did it say I’d have to sail across the Gauley River at sunrise,” he groaned like the world had ended ,”no one would sign up for that”.

“Listen, numbskull,” Joe gave both of them a frustrated look, but mostly pointed his annoyance at Tom ,”the trip is the least of your worries and you know it, so shut up”.

Tom gave him a scoff and bit his lip ,”yeah, you’re right. The biggest of our worries is being manned by Floyd.”

“If he hears you, you’re dead,” Joe warned, looking far ahead at the boats that preceded them. It wasn’t as if they weren’t whispering, but something told him that if they were caught talking, let alone talking shit, they would all have their asses drowned in the river.

The boat they were in was filled with mostly kids from St. Petersburg, with the exception of Oliver who was so small he fit right in the corner like a rucksack. Ben had been allowed in one of the boats up front. Brig. Gen. John B. Floyd had taken a liking to him after seeing his shot and immediately moved him up from private. He was even given a breach loader instead of the muskets the rest of them had to deal with it. Tom was jealous, to put it lightly. As much as he despised Floyd and his unorthodox methods of battle strategy and training, approval an praise from a superior officer was enough to make Tom have to hold back running around in pure glee. The moment Ben was handed that breech loader, Tom was green with envy. His own musket was old, unstable, and had the shot and aim of an old blind man. If anyone should get the better gun, it should be him.

Tom was dragged from his thoughts when he heard Alfred Temple’s voice whisper ,”This shouldn’t be too hard.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s an ambush against one of the Union’s Ohio Infantry, manned by Col. Erastus Tyler,” Alfred smirked ,”an inexperienced group of soldiers manned by an inexperienced colonel. Victory is inevitable.”

For a moment, Tom felt his lips curl up. “You know, that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever hard come out of your mouth.”

“You hang around Huck Finn, how would you know what smart sounds like?” Alfred shot back, his whisper filled to the brim with sarcasm and confidence. It made Tom’s blood boil.

Tom slightly leaned forward and let out a low growl ,”you talk anymore trash and I wear to god Temple I’ll- .”

“Boys, shut up!” Oliver spoke up, hissing from the corner of the boat ,”we’re docking. You can fight when we win this shit.”

Before either Alfred or Tom could respond, the boat lurched forward as it hit the sand, sending both of them off of there seats and hitting the floor of the boat with their rear ends. Alfred whispered under his breath that he’d kick his ass once they had gotten back, which Tom gladly agreed on. That was one more reason why they had to beat the unions: to kick the shit out of Alfred Temple.

In the span of ten minutes, so much had happened, and most didn’t get the privilege to witness it. Joe and Jeff flopped to the ground to avoid any danger that could be sent there way, seeing as how men were rushing forward with screams bellowing from their throats. Alfred attempt to follow the crowd, but the screams drowned his senses and his courage and he ducked back, fearing what lay ahead. It was Tom, with Oliver at his side, who saw it all. Union soldiers, small numbered and unprepared, were flanked by the confederates in a flurry of throat rawed screaming. One gun shot was fired, but no one went down. As fast a the ambush was enacted, the Union began to flee. It had been a while since Tom had seen anyone run so fast.

Tom slowly raised his musket, his hands trembling like earthquakes. His shot would’ve been great, his aim directly on the head of a union boy, but Oliver smacked the gun to the ground and punched him in the arm before he could get the chance.

Tom hissed and screamed ,”The hell was that for?!”

“We didn’t get a signal to shoot!,” the other boy snapped ,”you can’t just kill to kill!”

“I had one, I had one- “

“And if you did, you would have gone against protocall, getting your ass sent back to camp...or worse.”

Tom looked around and saw all the confederates settling down a the small group of unions retreated. If he did shoot, it would be over. They would’ve obliterated them, but no. He didn’t. He didn’t shoot.

“Next time,” Tom shoved his finger at Oliver’s chest, flustering him beyond end ,”never get in my way. Ever.”

* * *

 

Day turned to a starry night as the men set up camp over on Carnifex Ferry. If you would’ve told Tom or any of the other boys that there was such thing as living in worse conditions than boot camp, they would’ve told you to put a sock in it. Half of them were caked with dirt, sweat, and other unknown substances that they were too tired to care about. The tents that were set up came from only God knows where, with holes and stains of blood littering in it like their cots back at training. Probably someone's death blanket. At this point, Tom couldn’t find the energy to care. When the moon dimly light the area and the fire died out, most retreated to the confines of their tents to give in to the night.

Tom, however, wasn’t done. He never was.

Escaping the tent and making his way to the field behind camp, Tom found his ragtag infantry sprawled out underneath the stars, the only thing heard being the cicadas and distant rush of the Gauley River.

Joe sat up and waved to Tom, whispering ,”Ben and Jeff already headed in for the night, along with that Albert kid.”

“What about Alfred?”

“Didn’t bother to come.”

“Figures.”

“Not everyone has the stupidity to hang around in the dark under possible threat of an ambush.”

Tom didn’t bother to answer that.

Oliver sat only a few feet away, much to Tom’s annoyance. He was tempted to log a ball of spit in his direction, but he knew Joe would give him shit for it. However, it still didn’t hold back his snarkiness. After all, this is still Tom Sawyer we’re talking about.

“So,” Tom quietly snarled at Oliver ,”you had the balls to come out here?”

Joe smacked his forehead, “Tom, I swear to the Lord almighty, stop talkin’.”

“S’alrighty there,” Oliver spoke up ,”boy can be mad at me all he wants. I still doesn’t make you right.”

“I  _ am  _ right!”

“No, you’s ain’t. I don’t care what you says, killing a man in cold blood without any reason is wrong. Lawfully and biblically.”

“I had a reason, kid,” Tom rolled his eyes, though no one could tell in the dark ,”I signed up for this gig to help the confederacy, and I plan to do just that.”

Oliver quickly sat up straight, and despite the darkness, Tom knew he was glaring at him.

“Ain’t lookin’ to argue with someone who ain’t got a single clue as to what this war is and how we’re supposed to fight it,” Oliver’s voice was filled to the brim with venom and bite ,”and I ‘specially ain’t gonna argue with someone who thinks shoot first, ask questions later.”

It was quiet for a moment, as Tom didn’t have a witty comeback stored in his back pocket. He was left speechless as he watched his comrade - or enemy - get up and brush the dirt off of himself.

“I’ll head in for the night,” the young man grumbled and ran a hand through jet black curls ,”don’t want to argue anymore.”

Joe finally made himself known once more. “I have a question: why are you here? Why enlist?”

Oliver paused, not daring to look back. It was enough time for Tom to think of just how small the kid looked. He couldn’t have been above five feet and his shoulders looked bonier than a cat’s skeleton. Everything about him seemed ready to break. Everything except his arguments.

“Ain’t nobody's business but my own, Harper, I hope you’ll respect that,” and with that, Oliver was gone, leaving the other two boys to ponder in the dark.

“...strange kid,” Joe finally broke the silence.

“Yeah, no kiddin’.”

Tom looked over at his friend and focused on his features for a moment. It was calming, seeing a familiar face in a land so unknown. Part of him wanted to lie closer to his brother and see if he could still smell St. Petersburg on his skin, or feel his comforting warmth once more, but he restrained himself. It had already been awkward enough between the two after Joe found Tom in his most vulnerable state back at boot camp, so the last thing Tom wanted to do was make it worse.

But he needed to say something. He couldn’t take the awkward glances or the uncomfortable silence any longer. He wanted his brother back.

“Joe, do you hate me?”

Joe sputtered out confusion as he turned to face Tom back, his brow furrowed with perplexity.

“What in tarnation makes you say such nonsense?”

Tom burned with shame felt his chest shaking as he mumbled ,”...Huck.”

A little ‘oh’ escaped Joe’s lips as they sat there in a thick sea of tension. Tom was afraid to hear Joe say anything a all be it good or bad. Regret filled his mind and clenched his heart in a fist, making him rethink everything.

“I don’t hate you.”

It made Tom snap to attention, confused. “...what?”

“I said I don’t hate you. I’m not...happy, to put it lightly. It ain’t what I want for you. I want you to have a family, a sweet girl. I want you to have a normal life.”

Joe continued ,”but, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you, even if I tried. The only thing I can do is pray for you as much as the Lord will allow me.”

Though Tom nodded along, he still felt his heart beating faster than the speed of sound in his throat.

“How did you know?” Tom whispered, his words trembling.

“A hunch. I prayed it wasn’t true, but I always had a feeling there was something,” Joe stretched his arm up towards the sky, his fingers seemingly trying to catch the constellations,”you have stars in your eyes when you look at him.”

“At the end of the day, Tom, I just want you to be safe. Happy and safe.”

Happy and safe.

The words somehow felt foreign to his ears.

Happy and safe.

He’d forgotten the feeling.

* * *

 

It was a nightmare. It had to be.

Gunshots and shouts of men and boys rang through the air like a cacophony of horror. When Tom awoke, he thought he caught a glimpse of hell. Damn near looked like it.

He didn’t get time to think, though, as Joe grabbed him by the arm and whipped him from the tent, throwing his gun at him in the process. Tom had never seen such panic in his friends eyes. The usual persona of being hardened and jaded was stripped away from Joe’s face, being replaced with nothing but pure terror.

“We’re under attack,” Joe said, having a hard time breathing ,”we have to go.”

“Where are the others?!”

“I don’t know, but I’m not staying to find out!”

Joe grabbed his gun and ran, Tom following soon after Around them were cries, explosions, and more gunshots than either of them thought possible. Tom thought it wasn’t right. He was the one supposed to attack, not the other way around. No one warned him about being prey.

“Where’s Ben? Jeff? Alfred? Where are the-”

“Get down!” Joe screamed and tackled Tom to the ground, just narily avoiding and the debris and fire from a grenade in a nearby tent. 

Tom’s ears were still ringing when he yelled ,”we have to find them!”

“They’re smart, Tom, they can handle themselves!”

When they came to the hill that led to the river, neither of them hesitate to throw themselves over, letting gravity take over as they tumbled like boulders down to the riverbanks. All they needed to do now was get across the river. They were so close.

“Tom? Joe?”

The two whipped around in a panic, only to see Alfred Temple in the flesh, crawling from a burning tree, his face caked with blood and dust. Tom never thought he'd be so happy to see the bastard.

“Alfred!” they both yelled out.

“Where are the others? DO either of you know?”

“I can’t say.” Joe gasped for air and clutched his side. Tom thought he must've cut himself on the fall down.

“Listen,” Alfred said and pointed far left of the river bank ,”if we're lucky, the boats are still there. We can get to the nearest Virginia base and-”

A gunshot was fired, and Alfred went down.

Tom's ears were dripping blood when he began screaming.

“ALFRED!”

Another gunshot was fired, and Tom followed Alfred in suit, as everything went limp and his body fell to the ground.

Everything went black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quit my job. Not for this story, but for school. It was taking so much time that I couldn't focus on anything else. I was working so hard that I would end up physically sick. I passed out multiple times and had to go to the hospital.   
> All in all, took up to much of my time and I decided I had to focus on school and writing before anything else. I'll apply for another job next summer but for the time being, school and writing is my priority.   
> If I didn't reply to your comment, I'm really sorry. Know I read them and appreciate all of you so very much and wish you all the best.


	16. Pretty Women

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no matter how long it takes im going to finish this story, I promise you that, but I will not post a chapter if I'm not satisfied. I will take my time. I will not break my back for this either. I love this story and all of you but I will not let myself worry about posting to the point where I get super anxious. I love you all and hope you understand.

The sun had barely rose on the trees across from the river when Becky made her way out of the manor she called her home. Before she left, her father reminded her to bring Huck home with her. With an old blue dress tucked underneath her arm and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, the young woman practically bounced through the dirt street as she made her way to the old house Huck resided himself in. No one had ever truly gotten used to rich boy Huck Finn, still seeing him as the white trash little boy that ran around in the night and corrupted their sons. His residence in the Douglas household was still the popular controversy of St. Petersburg. Most agreed he would never be fit to be the Douglas predecessor, and that the worst thing the Widow Douglas could have done for the town was put Huckleberry Finn in the will.

Becky wasn’t so sure. Would she say Huck is a great businessman? No. Would she say Huck is still the little boy everyone remembers him as? Definitely not.

It didn’t take her long to reach her destination. She didn’t bother to knock, as she felt no need. The manor was silent, surprisingly. The servants and staff worked away, but everyone remained silent as they went about their day. Becky was used to boisterous chefs and maids who weren’t afraid to cuss her out for making a mess. This was foreign.

When she caught eye of Margaret and Julia playing over in the corner, she drew them with the gesture of her fingers and had them come to her.

She knelt down and whispered ,”why is everyone so quiet?”

“Mr. Finn is asleep,” Julia replied, with a lisp Becky never quite noticed until now.

Becky blinked in confusion ,”you guys don’t wake him up?”

“He likes to sleep in late, ma’am.”

A smirk painted itself on her lips as she stood up straight, chuckling to herself as an idea was born in her head.

“You girls want to help me wake him up?”

Margaret and Julia looked at each other, right before their eyes widened with excitement and giddy smiles erupted. They nodded profusely, so fast Becky thought their heads might fall off and roll at her feet.

“Alright, c’mon, little ladies,” Becky said, still trying to stifle her laughter.

The three probably didn’t need to be so quiet as they crept up to Huck’s room. They could hear his snoring from halfway up the stairs, so there was no doubt he was a heavy sleeper.

Like Tom, Becky thought, smiling to herself.

The two young girls were ushered in before Becky snuck her way into the room as well. The sight she was met with almost sent her busting with belly laughs. Huck lay sprawled on his bed in a complete star formation with one of his legs hanging off. His mouth, wide open and emitting snores, dripped drool all the way down his cheek and onto a puddle on the mattress. Becky thought it was amusing yet adorable at the same time, noting how his shirt was hiked up and his feet twitched in his sleep.

“Miss Becky, what are you gonna do?” Margaret whispered into her ear with Julia there to hear.

As Becky whispered her plan back, only Julia was willing to play along, while Margaret hid behind the older girl and hoped she wouldn’t get in trouble.

After Julia looked back at Becky (who was trying not to laugh out loud) for reassurance, the young girl crept close to the bedside and stood on the tip toes so she could see him well enough. Without any hesitance, Julia dug her fingers into Huck’s exposed belly and put all her effort into it.

Huck awoke practically shrieking with laughter as he desperately tried to squirm away. Enough thrashing caused him to fall of the side of the bed and curl up in a ball of giggles, his face bright red and tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

Becky couldn’t restrain herself any longer as she doubled over in laughter along wit the two other girls, watching the young man look up astonished and bewildered at all of them. 

“Aw, what’s wrong, Huck?” Becky teased ,”too sensitive?”

“Rebecca Thatcher, I will throw you into the river, do  _ not  _ test me.”

Huck sat on the floor, arms and legs crossed with an annoyed look on his face as the girls finished laughing until their faces were as red as tomatoes. Needless to say, Huck was not amused. 

Becky could tell he wasn't mad. She could see through the pouted lip and furrowed brow and could tell he was just as happy as they were. It was something she has picked up on; if the girls were happy, Huck couldn't be upset.

“Huck, do you remember why I came?” Becky asked the obvious question and pointed to the dress that was still tucked under her arm. 

As he rushed to his feet, Huck snatched the dress from the young woman, scanning it over before mouthing the words thank you. 

“Margaret,” Huck ushered her over to him, his smile clear in his words, “I got something for you.”

“Suh?” she tilted her head and made her way to him on the floor. Becky thought about herself at that age, so sweet and innocent. 

Without hesitation, Huck unrolled the dressed he had tucked away, revealing it to the young girl. She immediately burst into tears, thanking him a hundred times an hour as she hugged the dress with all her might. 

“Thank you!” she sobbed ,”thank you thank you!”

Becky noticed how happy Huck looked in the moment and her heart practically melted. The endearment in his eyes, the smile that wrinkled the ends of his eyes. The genuine love he had for these girls came off like a glowing beacon that could make Becky cry.

After the kids had left the bedroom, Huck looked up and Becky and seemed to allow himself a smile. 

“I appreciate the dress,” he said. 

“Was nothin’,” Becky smiled back at him ,”you care about them, don't you?”

He nodded ,”I'm not meant to be a father. If I were to ever have my own kid, I don't trust myself not to be like him.”

Becky didn't have to ask him what he meant. She knew. 

“But...they make up for it,” his words were dream like ,”they’re another reason why I didn’t flee this old town after I got back.”

“Well, what’s the first reason?”

“Ain’t that obvious? Tom Sawyer, of course.”

Becky felt a plethora of different emotions at the sound of that boy’s name. It was nothing like happiness or anger, but a mix of everything she knew.

A fist of desire and melancholy played at her heartstrings like an old guitar. Tom Sawyer had become foreign to her, his love and affection flying away from her grasp. She’d lived her delusion long enough. She couldn’t lie to herself any longer.

But even still, she loved him. She loved him, but she wanted more.

“I need you to come with me to see my father,” she changed the subject in an attempt to escape her own thoughts.

Huck groaned ,”girlie, today is my day off, give me a break!”

“He sayin’ it’s about the work, or somethin’ to that like.”

He was silent for a moment,until he rolled his eyes and hoisted himself off the ground. Becky thought he’d given up arguing.

“I’ll get dressed. Wait downstairs,” he instructed ,”I’ll be down in a minute.”

She did as she was told and left him to his clothes. Downstairs she saw Julia and Margaret chasing each other around the furniture, twirling around and showing off their dresses.

“You both look very pretty,” Becky said to them.

“Mister Finn is really sweet, ain’t he?” Julia said as she played with the hem of Margaret’s dress.

Becky could only smile.

“He really is.”

It didn’t take long for Huck to emerge from his bed room, decked out in a white button down tucked into brown trousers held up by suspenders. If it wasn’t for the shaggy hair that fell in tufts down to his shoulders and kicked out on the nape of his neck, Becky would say he would look like an absolute model gentleman. Dare she say he looked handsome, attractive, and all other synonyms of the word. 

“You know, Huck Finn,” Becky smirked as they walked along the street together ,”I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seein’ you in those fancy old duds.”

“Me neither,” Huck let out a nervous laugh ,”I still ain’t been able to be comfortable in these damn things.”

“You and shoes is also a sight to see.”

“Right! I hate these damn things,” Huck stomped his foot on the ground ,”how can anyone  _ like  _ them.”

Becky laughed ,”well, most people don’t like bein’ barefoot.”

“Most people be sayin’ that I’m not...well, most people,” Huck lightly chuckled.

“Can’t argue with that,” she teased and poked him in the side, making him jump.

He immediately sent a glare her way ,”don’t start again.”

She batted her eyelashes innocently ,”I ain’t done nothin’ wrong, Mister Finn.”

“The river ain’t far, I will throw you in- .”

“Oi!”

Both Becky and Huck stopped in their tracks as the familiar voice rung through the air. There, in front of the perfectly white Thatcher house, stood Judge Thatcher, looking as regal as ever. His eyes, though more sunken in than normal, shined brightly blue at the sight of his daughter and Huckleberry Finn. 

Becky smiled ,”hello, papa.”

Judge Thatcher smiled back and quipped ,”do you two plan on bickering all day?”

Huck bowed his head and apologized, clearly not understanding the joking nature of the judge’s words.

The judge ushered both of them inside and up to his office, where he poured them tea and had them make themselves comfy. Even Becky, who was glad to see her father happy, was surprised at the sudden cheery mood. It didn't make sense. 

Not to Becky’s surprise, Huck didn’t bother shying away from bluntness.

“Judge, I ain’t never seen you in such a gidder mood,” he said ,”now why in tarnation are you so cheery today.”

“Well, my dear boy,” the judge kept his smile large behind his beard as he placed his hands on his hips ,”ever since our business partnership, income has almost grown to fifty percent!”

Becky turned to Huck and grabbed his arm ,”congratulations!”

With a tilted head and raised eyebrow, Huck asked ,”that’s...good?”

Judge Thatcher let out a hardy laugh ,”my boy that’s  _ very  _ good! With all this new income you can expand your company and invest in those new boats you’ve been working for.”

“And,” he continued ,”I’ve partnered up with the daily news journal of our town, and he has taken quite the interest in you.”   
“ _ Me?” _

“Huckleberry, the public needs to know how a boy born from poverty climbed his way up to be a successful business man. The journalist, name George Urnest, said ‘there was never a boy who started out with less’. We could really go somewhere with this.”

“I’m not an attraction in a freak show!” Huck didn’t mean to sound so disgusted, but a bit of annoyance slipped into his tone ,”you mean well, but no matter what story I publish or whatever, the people will never change their minds about me. It ain’t worth it.”

There was a moment where nothing but silence hung in the air. The judge pondered over the young mans words as he ran his hand through his slowly graying beard. His eyes seemed, which had already seemed more tired than usual, hung low to his feet, lost in his thoughts.

“Finn,” the old man said, his voice low and gruff, so much so it sent chills up both Huck and Becky’s spines ,”I’m here to help you. I ain’t here to ruin you. I made a promise to an old friend and I damn well intend to keep it. Whether you like it or not, you’re cooperating.”

Becky heard Huck gulp.

“Miss Douglas loved you,” the judge said, almost begrudgingly ,”and I’ll be damned if she has to watch you throw your life away and go back to be a miscreant from heaven.”

He waited for a response, but Huck stayed silent, only nodding his head as he stared down at his feet.

“Good, I’ll take that as you understand,” Judge Thatcher let out a huff and smoothed out his clothes. Becky could tell he was getting more and more frustrated by the minute, so she would have to be sure not to step on his toes.

“Rebecca,” her father said ,”go cut Mister Finn’s hair, will you?”

Huck’s head shot up ,”wait, why? What’s wrong with my hair?”

“It’s not enough to dress like a gentleman, you have to have the hair and shave to match,” Judge Thatcher cracked a smile, but Becky couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not.

Without another word, Becky ushered Huck out of the room as fast as possible and led him to the spare bedroom, where she could do her job and not have anyone overhear their conversation. She knew Huck would have some words pertaining to her father, and she wouldn’t let anyone but herself hear them, lest they got back to the ears of the judge.

“I ain’t an attraction, they can’t go pokin’ at me like I am!” Huck groaned and stamped his foot ,”ye’ can’t act like y’all hate me and then go and have some weird interest in my life.”   
“I agree,” Becky hummed as she got the scissors ready ,”but I can’t say I don’t think this would be a good idea for you.”

“You agreein’ with your pa?”

“No, but can you really say this wouldn’t be a good opportunity?”

Huck didn’t respond, so Becky took that as a no.

“Exactly, so just try your best and you’ll be fine,” Becky smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair and wet the strands ,”you can write whatever you want and publish. A first look into the eyes of Huck Finn.”

“All I see is bullshit.”

“Language.”

“Sorry.”

Becky watched the dark brunette tufts of hair fall to the ground like feathers from a fallen bird. That’s what Huck was, she realized. A fallen bird. A bird with clipped wings that struggled to move even on the ground. A bird that wanted nothing more than the sky.

“How short do you want it?” she asked, her voice soft to his ears.

“Tom length.”

“You know,” Becky hummed sweetly ,”pretty women will love your new look.”

Huck held back a laugh ,”pretty woman.”

“Pretty women,” she hummed in a sing song tone as she plucked the few hairs that grew from his chin. 

After a few minutes of scissors dancing all over the place, Becky finally finished with one last snip. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Huck was more handsome than most boys now. He looked like a real model boy in her eyes.

Huck wasn’t so sure ,”you did good, but it just ain’t me.”

“I know, but if you’re going to work, you have to work like this.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Why do you work, Huck?”

“...huh?”

“You’re no business man, why do you work? Why don’t you sell the fishing expo to my papa? Won’t you be happier?”

Huck scratched the back of his neck and sighed, his blue eyes shining over like freshly cut glass. Before Becky could retract the question and apologize, he began.

“If I sell, the people workin’ at my house won’t be able to rely on me for income. And there's nothing I want more than for one of the families to save up enough money so I can ship them up north.”

“And...I want to make the widow proud,” she could here his throat tightening up ,”it’s the least I could do for her.”

It’s the best thing he could do for her, Becky thought. The look on Huck’s face spoke innocent but the light in his eyes showed trauma. The widow brought him in and gave him a bed and food to eat. She knew he was grateful, and she also knew Huck was one to pay people back.

“You’re a very sweet young man, Huckleberry Finn,” she rubbed his back fondly.

“Well, Becky Thatcher, answer me this,” he quipped back ,”why do  _ you  _ work? Girl like you has got enough income from her daddy to last her until she settles down with a husband. Why work with Mary Sawyer.”

“...ye’ can’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Becky.”

“I want to be able to make it on my own,” she admitted ,”St. Pete will always be my home, but I’ll be darned if I’m not going to travel up north and help the girls up there. I want to work, I want to see the world. I want to go to the Seneca falls convention and shake Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s hand myself. I don’t want to be just a rich girl livin’ in my old man’s shadow.”

“My daddy would kill me if he knew the real reason. He was against me workin’, said girls should stay inside and work there, but I was persistent. Now, he goes around sayin’ he pushed me to become a nurse and that he’s so proud of me,” she bit her lip so she wouldn’t speak ill of her father, but it didn’t work ,”if I could tell that man exactly what I think gosh darn it I would!”

“Woah there,” Huck let out a nervous chuckle ,”don’t get all riled up.”

“I know, I know,” Becky let out a sigh ,”he means well and wants the best, but his head ain’t on right.”

“I can see that.”

Becky smiled at him, brushing the newly cut bangs from his eyes in the process. Seeing Huck like this, finally comfortable with her, able to talk without the tremble or annoyance in his voice, made her heart flood with glee and triumph. Ever since she was little, she wanted to get along with Tom’s best friend. At first, it was all for Tom, but now, looking at Huck, it’s for her, too.

“You can go now,” Becky said ,”you can throw me in the river next time.”

Huck laughed ,”hold me to it.”

Before he left, she couldn’t help herself as she quickly hugged Huck’s arm, wrapping her arms around his and muttering.

“Thank you,” she whispered and released him.

For a moment, Huck forze in the doorway, paralyzed with confusion. Then, his demeanor melted, and the smile he gave her could melt snow and give the blind sight.

“No, thank you, Becky.”

And with that, he left. She was all alone. 

In that moment, she realized she could never have either of them. Neither of them could make her happy the way she wanted. Huck and Tom didn’t love her that way.

She didn’t try to stop herself from crying.


	17. Through the eye of a soldier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING:  
> there is attempted (emphasize attempted) sexual assault in this chapter. I don't get to graphic, and I censored a lot so it would be more tame, but you know your sensitivities better than me. Please don't read if you think it will be conducive to your mental health. Stay safe <3

For a moment, Tom Sawyer thought he was dead.

Blinding white light flooded his vision for a while. Whispers and echoes rang throughout his ears, though none of it made sense to him. His entire being felt numb, except for the vomit inducing pain that pounded throughout his head.

“Private Sawyer”.

Tom was relieved. Words had become clear and comprehensible, but his lips struggled to move and his throat struggled to make a sound.

“Private Thomas Sawyer.”

He tried to reach out and touch who ever was talking to him, but he couldn’t feel his arm. He wondered if he still had it.

“Private Thomas Jude Sawyer.”

Who knew his full name? He could tell the voice was feminine, but nothing further. Tom went through the list of people that knew his full name, and not many people came to mind. Maybe he really was dead.

“Tom, please wake up.”

The voice changed. It become deeper, gruffer, more strained even, like the speaker was begging. It was a man’s voice, and it sounded like Joe Harper.

“Joe,” Tom wasn’t expecting his voice to sound so hoarse and airy, as if he were a babe discovering his cry for the first time.

Though his vision was blurred, Tom could see enough to make out a picture. Joe sat next to the bed he lay in, holding his hand and trembling up a storm. Tom didn’t think he was crying, but he couldn’t say for certain. Joe never cries.

Tom noticed a woman, one unfamiliar to him, standing by the foot of his bed washing the dirt and - much to Tom’s horror - blood off of his feet. Her hair, warm and brown, was tied back in a single braid that fell below her breast. What really caught his attention, were the bright green eyes that pierced through everything she looked at. They were mesmerizing.

“Tom Sawyer, you dumbass,” Joe said in such relief that Tom thought he might start bawling on the spot. Without hesitation, Joe threw his arms around Tom and held him close. Tom closed his eyes and let himself breathe. He smelled metal.

“”Ere em I?” Tom slurred his speech until he could speak coherently ,”where am i?”

“You’re safe,” Joe said,”and that’s all that matter right now.”

Tom tried to hoist himself up, but the woman who was at the end of his bed immediately ran to his side and put her hand on his chest.

“Try not to move much,” she said ,”lie still for a while”.

“W-why?”

“Wounded soldiers must stay bedridden until cleared, and I have no authority to clear you,” she sighed ,”I’m sorry”.

Tom stayed silent for a moment.

“...what the hell do you mean ‘wounded’?” he growled and gritted his teeth.

Joe and the young woman looked at eachother, afraid to say anything. All it did was cause Tom annoyance and anxiety, as he was currently feeling like a dead animal being pitied.

“Answer me, Joe, or so help me god- .”

“Relax, take a deep breath.” Despite a rush of irritation that flooded over Tom, he obeyed Joe’s words and steadied his breathing. His chest shook less and his heart stopped choking him. Joe had never talked to him so softly.

“C’mere, buddy,” Joe wrapped his arms around Tom’s torso and hoisted him off of the old rotted cot. Pain shot throughout Tom’s legs like a hot searing fire poker, making everything in his vision go white like snow. The insides of his stomach lurched and threatened to come up any second.

“W-wait, wait,” Tom gripped onto Joe’s shirt and leaned all his weight into him ,”oh god I’m gonna vomit.”

“Just focus- .”

“I can’t see anything, Joe, I-I can’t- everything hurts- .”

“Listen to me,” Joe cut him off and wrapped his arms tighter around his friends body, cradling him while standing upright ,”you were in that bed for over two days. You’re going to be sick, you’re going to be in pain.”

Tom’s breathing became rapid again.

“What the hell happened out there?” he cried out ,”what the hell happened to me?!”

Joe practically dragged Tom to the wall where the mirror hung. Tom almost couldn’t open his eyes. Every voice in his head screamed at him about every possible scenario that could play out if he dared to look in the mirror. Anxiety brought vomit up and he almost made a mess of both him and Joe, but he clamped his mouth shut and forced it back down.

“It’s okay,” he heard Joe say in a hushed voice ,”look.”

Tom looked through a squint he made and almost screamed.

He was wearing an eye patch, littered with shreds of skin and scars peeking out from behind the black fabric.

He realized he could only see to the right; his left side was an enigma.

“Union boys shot you in your eye, it was a miracle it didn’t hit your brain,” Joe’s voice sounded tight and clammed ,”you went down so quickly, I-I thought you were dead.”

While he talked, Tom didn’t say a word. He didn’t dare to.

“I shot at ‘em, and so did our other boys, scared ‘em off some. God, Tom, there was so much blood, I-I didn’t know what to do. I had to drag you and Alfred to the boats and get you across Carnifex before you bled out.”

That’s when Tom remembered Alfred.

“Oh my god, Alfred” The words tumbled out of Tom’s mouth like an uncontrolled waterfall ,”where the hell is he? Is he okay?”

Joe was silent for a moment.

“For the love of god, man, answer me-”

“He didn’t make it.”

They both fell silent. A silence that killed them to the core and shook their insides to a point of frigidness. It was as if the embodiment of horror and despair himself currently had his hands wrapped around their throats.

“I watched him bleed out in the boat. I put pressure on the wound, I did everything, but h-he just kept bleedin’ and bleedin’ and bleedin’.”

Joe looked at his friend like he was waiting for an immediate response, but he got nothing.

“He kept talking during the entire damn ordeal,” Joe grabbed a fistful of his own hair looked up at the ceiling, as if he wasn’t talking to Tom; as if he was talking to God ,”he called out for his ma and pa, a-and he didn’t stop until…”

Tom looked down and saw his hands shaking, and then he saw the blood. The blood on his hands that no matter how much he wiped them on his clothes the red wouldn’t go away. The hint of metal flooded his nostrils and taste buds until that was the only thing he could feel. The blood wouldn’t go away. It refused.

“Blood.”

“What?” Joe asked.

“There’s blood on my hands.”

“There’s nothin’ there, Tom-”

“I told him I would fight him,” Tom cut him off ,”I told Alfred I would kick the shit out of him once we got back to camp. I promised I would see him back, I promised I would fight him.”

Joe’s eyes shined over like glass as he squeezed them shut ,”Tom, please don’t.”

“But I’m here,” Tom’s eye widened with realization and horror ,”but he ain’t.”

He continued, tears streaming down his face ,”I’m standing here, upright and talking, with one eye and one life to live. That’s so much fucking more than Alfred can say.”

Tom let himself fall back against the wall and slide to the floor, his entire being crumbling into an utter mess. He wailed into his knees and clawed at his shirt, trembling like an earthquake at the fault line. Joe knelt beside him, and Tom almost saw a tear.

What made him so special that he got to live but Alfred didn’t? Alfred Temple, the top of his class, the boy with a future. The boy that didn’t have to enlist, but did for his parents. For his town. Alfred Temple, the boy - the man - who shouldn’t have been anywhere near combat. Why was Tom here but Alfred wasn’t.

Guilt, disgrace, shame, sin - every synonym of the words - it was all Tom could feel.

He wanted his Aunt Polly, he wanted Becky. He wanted Mary and Sid and Amy and anyone that could bring him back home and make him forget this nightmare.

God, he wanted Huck.

* * *

 

Joe had left Tom to himself, saying that if he needed him, he’d be with the other boys they knew. Tom wanted nothing more than to run to his friends and stay safe in their warmth, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to face him.

The infirmary he sat in lay empty, aside from the unconscious man in the corner and the nurse that had aided him earlier. She had ignored him for the most part, which didn’t bother him in the slightest. The solitude felt comforting, as if he were in his own, untouchable world. No one could come in.

Until she did.

The nurse knelt down in front of him and handed him an old blanket, one that didn’t have stains on it. Tom didn’t believe it, but didn’t hesitate to bury himself in it to cure his shivers.

“You looked cold,” she said, her voice soft and sweet.

“I was,” Tom nodded and faked a smile ,”thank you, ma’am”.

She smiled back at him, showing him the tooth gap that resembled Huck’s ,”Mary Jane. Mary Jane Wilks.”

“Pretty name. Tom Sawyer.”

Mary Jane sat beside him on the ground and leaned her back against the wall. Tom got a better look at her, and realized she must’ve been a few years older. Her features and body matured beyond his years, and her eyes showed experience. Her brown braid was coming undone and the bags under her eyes looked as if they were growing darker by the minute. Despite the exhausted look she wore, Tom thought she looked angelic.

“You had all your friends scared, Tom Sawyer,” Mary Jane said to him ,”especially Private Harper. He never left your side.”

Tom couldn’t help but chuckle ,”that’s just like him. He wouldn’t tell anyone, but he’s the kind to worry.”

“It wasn’t just worry, y’know,” she looked at her hands and picked at her nails ,”I only see brothers care about eachother like that. He loves you a whole lot.”

“Yeah,” Tom had to hold back his emotions ,”yeah, he does”.

Love was something Tom Sawyer had always held on a pedestal. He gave it out like presents on Christmas, but never expected it in return. The privilege of having someone love him the way he loved them was something he thought was foreign. Tom Sawyer had too much love to give, but not enough to receive.

“You seem like a smart kid, too smart to have been stuck in the draft,” Mary Jane poked fun, but Tom didn’t laugh ,”what’s your story?”

“Me?” Tom huffed and pursed his lips ,”I joined for the income...and to help.”

“You seem like the kind of boy lookin’ for adventure.”

“You could say that.”

“Anyone waiting for you when you get back? Ma? Pa? Sweetheart?”

“No parents to speak of, I have an aunt though, and a cousin and a brother, all I’m dyin’ to see,” Tom let out a nervous chuckle ,”I got a, uh, a friend that’s waitin’ for me back in St. Pete.”

She smirked ,”a friend? Are you implyin’ somethin’?”

“No, it would never work, no matter how much I’d want it,” Tom felt his heart pounding in his chest.

“They are amazin’, though,” he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him ,”they’re ahead of their time, I’m tellin’ ya. Ignorant but brilliant at the same time. And a heart of unbreakable gold. No one would believe it but the Lord has his eyes on that one. Gave ‘em hell for years but has plans for ‘em”.

“You sound like you’re in love,” Mary Jane nudged him.

Tom was to busy perseverating to answer.

“I met a boy like that once,” she hummed and closed her eyes ,”he was traveling, and he was scared and angry at the world, but he was so kind, so brilliant. He didn’t talk the brightest and wasn't educated like you and I, but he had a mind beyond his years. That was years ago, I haven’t seen him since.”

A nod was the only thing he gave in return. He didn’t say Huck’s name, but he felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Her eyes seemed to bore into him and dissect every bit of his being. Maybe Tom was being paranoid, or maybe Mary Jane had just succesfully picked and poked at his mind to figure him all out. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but his brain wasn’t giving him a choice.

“Tom Sawyer, you son of a bitch!”

Tom stood up and looked around at the sound of his name, only to see a blur of two young men bust through the doorway and tackle him back to the ground. Ben Rogers and Jeff Thatcher couldn’t stop laughing as they held onto their friend for dear life, tears rimming their eyelids. Tom could barely breathe with both of them on him. Both were slim young men, but their combined weight felt like a ton on Tom’s ribs.

“Holy shit, Sawyer, we thought you were dead!” Ben ruffled Tom’s hair and kept him pinned to the ground.

“Scared the shit out of all of us, boy,” Jeff cried and stuffed his face in Tom’s shirt.

Tom appeared less joyful ,”I-I can’t...I can’t breathe.”

“What? What was that?” Ben smirked and tickled his friend’s torso ,”can’t hear you, buddy.”

“N-no!” Tom laughed and peeled his friends off of him, ignoring the newborn pain in his bones that they gave him ,”I swear, you gibfaces give me headaches.”

“And _you_ ,” Jeff slugged him in the arm ,”give us the scare of our lives.”

“We thought we lost our Robin Hood,” Ben added in, a look of genuine concern painting his face.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” Tom chuckled, though it hurt his chest.

“I’m glad he has friends like you to keep an eye out for him,” Mary Jane spoke as she stood up from the floor. Tom completely forgot she was there.

As she walked passed them, Tom saw Ben’s hand go for her rear end, a smirk decorating his face. Before he could fully curl his finger around her, Mary Jane whipped around and snatched his wrist from her body and bent his hand back. Ben immediately hissed and tugged away, a look of venom in his eyes and the strong of cusses that followed.

“I ask that you keep your hands to yourself,” she glared.

“You little bi-”

The slap she gave him echoed throughout the infirmary and could be heard in the from outside the tent. A fresh, glowing, red handprint began to grow on Ben’s cheek as he stood their in complete shock. He didn’t get the chance to cuss her out before she turned and hurried away, knowing she would have to deal with more of him.

“Fucking bitch,” Ben growled and cracked his knuckles ,”can’t take a fucking joke.”

Tom didn’t say it, but Mary jane now both intrigued him and scared the hell out of him.

* * *

 

Joe’s eyes were dark and sunken in, his skin was paler than usual, and his hair looked like a rat had been living there for months. Sleep had evaded him for the past few nights as he lay glued to Tom’s bedside. He never had known such stress in his days back in St. Petersbrug. Back then his life had consisted of working, studying, and flirting with the local girls. He never thought he’d see his best friend gushing blood in his arms.

He knew what he had signed up for, he knew what war was, but no one prepared him to live through hell. His life was nice; he had a mom, a dad, a little sister, and a home. Everything was at his fingertips. Now, he had no idea what he was doing.

Tom was what occupied his mind the most, though. They had known each other since Tom first arrived in St. Petersburg, and ever since Joe promised himself he would always look out for him. Trouble had no issue finding Tom Sawyer, but Joe wanted to be the one to keep him standing.

In Joe’s eyes, Tom could go places, Tom could make it big in this world, and he wanted to see that happen.

He took care of Tom more than he took care of himself.

Wandering around the camp made him anxious, so he left to go back to the infirmary. He didn’t expect to see Tom, but he did feel like he was going to faint.

Before he could reach the tent, a scream shattered his ear drums and ripped his heart apart. Joe froze for a moment, not knowing what to do. His feet stayed glue to the grass as his hands and knees tremored.

Joe finally processed that it was a woman’s scream and forced his legs to dash into the infirmary.

Ben Rogers stood in the middle of the infirmary, with the young nurse he met earlier in his arms kicking and screaming. Ben grunted and slammed her against the table, pulling her hair back and watched her cry out in pain. Joe recognized the other boy with him - blond kid from Jackson city, Albert - who was screaming at Ben to cut the shit.

Joe Harper lost his mind.

Joe lunged at Ben and ripped Mary Jane out of his arms. With no hesitation, Joe’s hands went directly for Ben’s throat and slammed him against the table. Ben sputtered out empty threats, but it didn’t stop Joe from punching him in the face over and over again. Blood gushed from Ben’s newly broken nose and stained Joe’s knuckles, but it didn’t stop him. The only thing that stopped him was two bodies pulled him away, almost throwing him to the ground. He looked up and realized it was Albert and Oliver.

“Why did you stop me?!” Joe barked and sent spit flying at them.

‘Y-you...you were gonna kill him,” Albert looked horrified ,”you weren’t gonna stop.”

“I wasn’t.”

Oliver seemed to be on his side as he turned to Ben and kicked him in between the legs, sending Ben into a hit of wails.

“He was only trying to scare her,” Albert said ,”I tried to stop him, but he wasn’t gonna do anything. He just wanted to give her a scare.”

Joe pointed at Mary Jane crying and shaking in the corner ,”does that woman look just scared?!”

Albert shook his head ,” I-I...I don’t know...I’m sorry…”

Mary Jane could be seen standing up in the corner, the tears still streaming down her face. Joe wanted to offer her a hand, but the slight movement towards her made her flinch. 

"I-I'll make sure she's okay..." Albert whispered, still shaking as he cautiously stepped towards the woman.

If Joe didn’t leave when he did, he would’ve kicked the absolute shit out of ALbert. He stormed the camp, furious, and wanting to punch someone again.

“Wait!”

Oliver ran after him, his short legs having a hard time keep up. Joe was surprised to see him alive; he hadn’t seen his face since Carnifex Ferry.

“Fuck off,” Joe growled and tried to walk away.

“I wanted to ask if you was okay,” Oliver inquired as he grabbed Joe’s sleeve. The feeling of Oliver’s hands on him made something in him snap. He turned and backhanded the other man across the face, sending the smaller of the two flying backwards.

“I said fuck off!” Joe shouted.

Oliver, however, was unfazed ,”you don’t mean that.”

“What the hell do you know?!”

“I know you have got some balls to stand up for that woman,” Oliver said ,”we’re in a damn war that’s the most herois shit I ever did see.”

“I didn't sign up to be a hero!” Joe yelled ,”I didn't sign up to see the shit that I've seen! I signed up to do my part and avoid getting killed and then go home!”

“You're a hero at heart, I must say.”

“Don't give me that shit.”

“It's true, id say you're braver than the other boys I be seeing’ around- “

“I don't want to be brave!” Joe finally broke and sank to his knees, the tears pooling in his eyes like the ponds in the deep woods ,”I don't want to watch someone die or have to watch your best friend slip in and out of reality or have to hurt someone you thought you knew since childhood. Do you have any fucking inklin’ of this shit?!”

Oliver let Joe cry until he could compose himself and form a coherent sentence. Hoe was sure he looked absolutely pathetic, but everything in him couldn't stop wailing. Oliver knelt down and shouldered the weeping boy and carried him back to his sleeping corridors.

“I got all night, Harper,” Oliver said ,”and I'm all ears.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated thanksgiving if you celebrate!


	18. Sweet Boy

Days went by with little incident in St. Pete, much to Huck’s surprise. Barrages of events seemed to hurtle at him like a meteor shower as of late, and even a week of silence was out of the ordinary. The letters from Tom halted for a few weeks, causing Huck’s anxiety to bubble in his stomach like stew. The philosophy of easy living and being laid back Huck had held so dear all these years came to an end - as every day seemed to be filled with more worrying and less sleep. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to grow deeper than the Mississippi River.

“If anything had happened,” Amy Lawrence said as she placed the glass of water on the counter in front of him ,”military officials would have been at the Sawyer house already.”

“You’re right,” Becky said from the stool next to Huck ,”but I can’t help worryin’, either.”

Amy patted and rubbed her friends hand ,”it’s just like you to worry, but Sawyer is a tough boy, and you’re a tough girl.”

“And you,” the young waitress pointed at Huck ,”I would think you out of everyone would have more faith in Tom to take care of himself.”

Huck took a sip of his water and raised an eyebrow at her ,”Amy, I out of everyone would know how rash and stupid he can be, and how he may  _ not  _ be able to take care of himself.”

Becky lightly elbowed him in the ribs ,”why Huck, how you talk such things about your best friend!”

“You know he ain’t the type to worry about himself, missy.”

Becky rolled her eyes and didn’t bother to respond, making Huck think he had won that argument.

“So, dear old Huckleberry Finn,” Amy leaned over the counter and rested herself on her elbows, flashing him a sweet yet devilish like smirk ,”word’s been goin’ around town that you’re gonna be spendin’ time partnerin’ with sweet little Becky’s pa.”

“Yes’m.”

“And publishin’ some papers I hear, too.”

“Yes’m”

“Take this in the nicest way, Hucky,” he didn’t like how she used Tom’s nickname on him, but he bit his tongue back ,”but people around town have doubts.”

Huck scoffed and furrowed his brow ,”well, do  _ you  _ have doubts?” He didn’t know why he would get so defensive, it’s not like he necessarily wanted the job he had, but it was if she mocking him from a pedestal above him. A pedestal he could never reach.

“Personally, I find it amusing a boy who was illiterate up until he was fourteen is going to be publishin’ essays,” she admitted ,”but, I ain’t one to judge, and you ain’t one to half-ass a job. I have faith in you.” Whenever a woman would cuss, Huck would cringe on the inside, but this was Amy Lawrence, and no one could tell her what to do.

“Well, ain’t that...encouraging?” Huck nervously chuckled ,”you might have more faith in me than I have in myself.”

“Don’t worry yourself!” Becky grabbed his shoulder and gently shook him reassuringly ,”just write what you want people to hear.”

“People don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Well, I do.”

Amy laughed and joked ,”I don’t!”

Becky ignored the other girl ,”it might prove to the townsfolk that you’re no longer...you know.”

Huck frowned ,”what? A street rat? Is that what you used to view me as?”

“What was I supposed to view you as?” Becky crossed her arms and got defensive ,”I was never allowed around you and Tom always got into trouble with you.”

“But you’re different now,” she continued ,”the past means nothing.”

“It’s an easy thing to say when you ain’t got a past, Becky.”

Huck knew full well every word that came out of Becky’s mouth wasn’t meant with any ill intent, but no matter how hard he tried to shake the fist of fear and anxiety that gripped his heart and strangled him by the neck, he just couldn’t bring himself to be calm about anything.

Becky nodded, staying quiet for a moment as she sipped her drink. Huck thought he had upset her, and apparently, so did Amy.

“Apologize to her,” Amy said, with little anger but just enough malice to take Huck aback. 

Huck sighed ,”Becky I- .”

“Stop,” she interrupted him ,”it’s fine. I just wanted to help but if you ain’t looking for my assistance, I get it.”

“No, Beck, that’s not- “.

The look she gave him sent such chills down his spine that he quit mid sentence.

Becky put cash on the counter and promptly left the tavern, leaving both Huck and Amy without a word. If Huck didn’t feel bad before, he definitely felt like shit now.

He didn’t waste time to follow her out the building and find her making her way towards uptown, near the residence. He called her name once, then twice, and yet she kept walking, as f she had the ability to block out everything that was Huckleberry Finn.

“For Pete’s sake Becky, just look at me!”

She whipped around so quick Huck thought she hurt her neck. The look she gave was filled with hurt as tears brimmed her blue eyes.

“This world has hurt you,” she began ,”I know you’re in pain, I know you’re suffering. I see the fear in your eyes and all I want to do is help.”

“But how am I supposed to help if you push everyone away!?” she cried ,”life has damaged you, but you’re not the only one!”

Huck clenched his fists and bore his teeth ,”don’t pretend like you have any clue the shit I’ve had to put up with in this town, rich girl.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but you can’t use that as a reason to not let anyone in.”

“What the hell would you know? What problems have you had? Dress got dirty? You outgrew nice shoes?”

Becky sounded like she was she couldn’t breathe, like her tears were choking her ,”w-why did I even bother to try caring…?”

Huck didn’t have the chance to respond, even if he wanted to. Mary Sawyer dashed out of the Sawyer household in a frenzy, red hair disheveled and glassed over brown eyes.

“Huck! Becky!” the woman cried out ,”s’you right?”

Becky nodded through her tears and Huck called out a yes.

“I-I heard you from inside…,” she said as her hands shook,”I-I need the two of you...please…”

Neither of the two of them hesitated to run inside the house.

“I don’t know what happened..,” Mary went on frantically ,”Sid had said mother was a bit worse this morning but I’d never imagine…”

Huck grabbed her by the shoulder and looked her in the eyes ,”what happened?”

“She got out of bed, rambling on and on about Tom needing her, and she fell down the stairs,” she covered her mouth with her hands to prevent a sob ,”I-I can’t lift her myself, and shes too weak and delirious to do it herself...:”

“Mary,” Becky said in a calm and collected voice, or as calm and collected as she could possibly be ,”we’re nurses, we can handle this.”

“This is out of my control, I-I don’t know what else to do...,” Mary stopped trying to hold beck tears as she stuffed her face into Becky’s shoulder and sobbed, gripping onto her friend’s blouse. Neither of them had ever seen her so vulnerable. Mary Sawyer was always the strong, young woman of St. Petersburg that always wore a smile. This wasn't her.

Huck left during the talk to find Aunt Polly lying at the base of staircase, heaving and muttering gibberish to herself. The older woman’s face was contorted in agony and her body twisted in an unnatural way. It was disgusting.

Years of insults and judgments that the woman had thrown his way took a back seat. Huck hoisted the woman into his arms and carried her back to her bedroom. It felt like carrying glass, like any bump and Huck would regret it for the rest of his life.

“Put her to bed,” Becky instructed as she dampened a cloth and prepared medicine ,”I’ll be in there in a moment, just keep her comfy.”

He nodded and nudged the woman’s door opened with his foot.

“Tom?” Aunt Polly called out as Huck lay her in her bed,”Tom, is that you?”

A lump formed in Huck’s throat.

“Yeah, Aunty,” Huck said with a weak smile ,”it’s me, Tom.”

“Oh, sweet boy,” she let out an airy sigh of relief ,”I thought you was hurt. You worry me so.”

“T’aint nothin’ to worry about, I promise.”

“You and your promises, Thomas.”

Aunt Polly descending into an aching coughing fit, rendering Huck into an audience member to a show he didn’t want to be a part of. He didn’t want to be part of this again. Months he had sat by the Widow Douglas’s bed while she lay ill, while he stood there helpless. Huck thought it was one of the worst feelings: seeing someone suffering and not being able to do anything about it.

“T-Tom,” Aunt Polly groaned and reached her hand out, gently cupping Huck’s cheek ,”you’ve always been such a good boy. A rascal, but a good boy.”

Huck wasn’t gonna cry, but he sure felt like he was.

“Such a good boy you are to me,” she mumbled as her eye lids fell victim to sleepiness ,”such a good boy to that girl...Bessie.”

“Becky…”

“Becky, of course,” she continued ,”what a lovely girl. You helped her in such a time of need.”

For a moment, Huck paused. He had no idea what she was talking about, and he contemplated having Becky come in and change the subject. None of this was any of his business, but Huck didn’t want the woman to believe Tom wasn’t there, and he definitely didn’t want her to know Huckleberry Finn was in her bedroom.

“Does that girl ever talk much of her brother?” Aunt Polly asked.

“...no ma’am.”

“It’s hard to talk about someone you lost,” she coughed once more ,”I never talked much of my husband, or my sister.”

Everyone had lost someone. Some have suffered more than others, but pain didn’t discriminate. Huck looked at Becky through the doorway preparing medicine and felt himself be flooded with guilt. Everyone had lost someone.

“Thomas,” Aunt Polly wheezed out, drawing Huck’s attention back to her ,”I’m tough on you because I love you. I hope you know that”.

“I do, I do know that.”

“I love you, my boy,” Aunt Polly lowered Huck’s face down to hers and planted a kiss on his forehead.

Huck almost choked on his words ,”I-I love you, too.”

Aunt Polly’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier, mumbling more and more softly as she descended into sleep. Snores emanated throughout the room, giving Huck a sense of comfort.

Becky finally stepped in, avoiding all eye contact with Huck, and dripped medicine into the woman’s mouth. Huck watched in awe as to how much Becky knew, and how well she was doing without Mary. He recalled Tom teasing her for being a liability, often making fun just to see her blush and be flustered. It was the first time in a while that Huck wanted to call Tom an idiot. Becky was anything but a liability.

“She needs to rest now,” Becky whispered and placed a damp cloth on Aunt Polly’s forehead for extra measures ,”I’m not sure how long any of this will lat, though…”

Huck was afraid to ask what she meant by that.

The two of them tiptoed out of the bedroom and were met with Mary thanking them profusely, offering them anything in return. Huck insisted he needed nothing, but Mary wouldn’t accept it.

“You’ve helped me in a time of need,” she pleaded ,”I must repay you somehow.”

“Sleep,” Becky said ,”that’s what we ask. Go rest and sleep.”

“...but-”

“Mary,” Becky’s eyes softened as she grabbed her friends hand and kissed it ,”you don’t even know when the last time you’ve slept was. Sleep, please. If not for us, then for your mother, or for Tom.”

It took her a minute, but Mary finally relented and headed up the bed after checking on her mother one last time. Both of them watched the woman saunter away like a zombie fresh from the grave, leaving them silent in the kitchen area.

Huck tried to look Becky in the eyes, but got a shoulder turned to him instead. He didn’t get mad, he figured he deserved it.

“...Becky.”

She didn’t respond.

“Becky, I’m sorry.”

It was only for a moment, but she let her shoulders fall and allowed Huck to briefly glance into her eyes before turning away. It was a long enough stare to remind Huck their eyes were the same color.

“I-I care about you, too,” it hurt him to say, but he continued on ,”I just…”

Becky turned around once more, this time permanently, and gave him a kind, doe eyed look.

“You just what, Huck?”

“I-I don’t know”

“Say it, please.”

“I just get scared of letting people get close,” the words fell out, and Huck almost regretted letting them slip. His stomach lurched, trying to tell him to keep his mouth shut.

Becky nodded ,”I understand.”

“I guess being thrusted into my position scared me, because I knew I would have to open up to more people...and I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You don’t have to,” Becky smiled ,”but you can with me. I’m a friend.”

The statement offered Huck both comfort and anxiety.

“And I’m sorry...about your brother,” Huck offered, concerned he was stepping boundaries, or just talking more than needed.

“Hm?” Becky gave him a quizzical look ,”how did you hear about him?”

“Aunt Polly mentioned it...sorry, I know it’s none my business.”

Becky chuckled and waved her hand ,”no, no, it’s fine. It was years ago.”

Huck took one last gulp of fear before asking ,”can I ask what happened?”

“It’s no great story,” she sighed and looked out the window longingly ,”it was before we moved her, back when I was just a girl. My brother...he got in trouble one time with some rough riders. He got shot in the hip.”

Huck almost forgot to breath.

“My father had to escape the shame and grief of losing his only son, so he transferred here, to St. Pete.”

“You look a bit like him, y’know,” she smiled once more ,”’specially now that your hair is cut.”

Huck regretted every single time he had called her rich girl over the years. She was so much more.

“That’s why I love Tom, y’know,” Becky looked down at her feet ,”after everything had happened with Injun Joe, I confided in him, and he became more than just a charming, cute face with a talent for making girls smile. He made me feel like myself again. I owe him everything.”

Huck smiled behind his hand, thinking how he couldn’t have said it better himself.

“But now,” she reached out and adjusted Huck’s button up ,”it’s my turn to help you.”

Without thinking, Huck pulled her into his embrace/. He didn’t know what came over him, it was as if his heart moved his arms and not his brain. Becky made no protest. She clutched the back of his shirt and rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Huck secretly always wanted a brother, but a sister was just as good.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could give you all my excuses, but this last month has just been awful and I haven't had the will to write or do anything. I should've pushed through it though, I'm sorry, but tragedy can strike at any moment and I wasn't prepared.  
> Next chapter will be shorter, but I plan to have it up tomorrow!  
> If I didn't get to your comment from last chapter, I'm really really sorry, I appreciate any comment, be it praise or criticism. Just like I said, really bad month on mental and physical health.  
> Love all of you and I hope you have a fantastic day <3


	19. The Abolitionist Papers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyy I actually kept my promise about updating today

Throughout her youth, Becky was always indirectly exposed to business and trade. Business men would enter her house more often than she did. Her father was constantly in meetings and striking up deals with the charming smile he had. Becky was never allowed to be in the room or even sit at the door, but they couldn't stop her from pressing her ear against the wall in the other room. Through this, she learned of the oil trade, the stock market, the gold standard and bimetallism, and every cutthroat business practice imaginable.

Some of these men stayed around as friends. Some left as soon as the meeting was over and never stepped foot into their house again. 

George Urnest was one to stick around. She remembered sitting at the door waiting for Mister Urnest to stop by again, expecting a piece of candy or even a ragdoll for her when he came. He became John Thatcher's primary journalist when it came to business articles and new updates in the daily newspaper, which meant he stuck around a lot for Becky to see. 

Now, as a young woman, she stood there staring at Mister Urnest as he surveyed over the document that she gave him. The document that Huck Finn wrote himself.

"Rebecca," Mister Urnest pushed his glasses up and sighed ,"I don't know if I can publish this."

Becky knew he would say something like that the moment she read the document herself, but she wasn't going to let Huck down just yet.

"Sir, please," Beckly pleaded ,"we are close enough to the 36'30' line to where this can be published."

"It's not necisarrily if I can publish it, it's if we can get away with it after the people read it."

She looked up at him, hopefully ,"no criticism will come to you, I promise."

"I know that," he grunted ,"but what will come of Mister Finn?"

There was a pause. Becky had already asked Huck if he was certain that this is what he wanted to do. If he was willing to put himself out there in such light. Nothing could change Huck's mind. He said if he's going to publish anything, it's going to be this.

"He's set in his ways," Becky said at last ,"he's dead set on showing these papers to the public."

"...your father will kill me."

"I'll tell him it was all my doing."

"Rebecca-"

"Please, sir!" she didn't mean to raise her voice or seem so desperate, but her heart took over her head ,"I will never ask you of anything again, but you know in your heart these papers need to be published. If not for me, or for Huck, do it for yourself and the people."

The man looked at her with sad eyes that had seen the years pass by like pages of a book. He had seen the girl before him grow from a babe to a bright young woman - it damn near vrought a tear to his eye. Mister Urnest sighed and chuckled to himself as he stuffed the papers into his briefcase.

"Young lady," he said ,"I hope you know what you're doin'."

* * *

_**The Abolitionist Papers** _

_**Huckleberry Douglas-Finn** _

**~~~~** ~~~~_Dear the sirs and ma'ams of our ~~lovly~~ lovely Saint Petersburg. You read the title, you read the author. I can imagine your confusion, your frustration, your anger. Your upset at my name  ~~aint~~ is not uncommon, and I hold no grudge, though it can  ~~piss me off~~ be upsetting. I have tried to build up my ethos, though I'm sure not all are convinced. _

_My name tastes bad to some of you. I'm the dirty demon of  Saint Petersburg who corrupted your boys and freed a negro. I bring trouble and no good deeds to our small town - I blacken the name of our fair town._

_You know me by my name, you know me by my face, my hair, my eyes, my nose, and my ears. You know me by my father, perhaps my mother, too, and my lack of siblings. You know me by my friends and the people around me._

_You know me as the boy who freed a slave._

_Many were outraged. Many spit at me ~~more than usual~~ and said my name like the Devil's cuss words. I disrupted the good, Godly nature of everyone's lives, and life would never be the same if I ever had the indecency to return. _

_I'll admit, I have not ~~ben~~ been the  ~~goodest~~ most well behaved boy in town, and I am sorry. I am sorry to the mothers who found me raising their gardens and playing with their boys, I am sorry to the teachers who tried their best to correct me, and I'm sorry for soiling the name of  ~~merality~~ morality._

_However, I am not sorry, and will never be sorry, for freeing a slave._

_My school teachers would teach us of the days of the ~~revoltuion~~ revolution, a time when men fought for their freedom under British rule. President Washington led us in a crusade to get what was rightfully ours: our rights. Our God given rights. The rights you claim God gives us, and only to us. Not negroes._

_To quote the late President Thomas Jefferson "We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal". We spout this line with pride, holding Jefferson up on the pedestal we built for him. In respect for my late president, I will only criticize his legacy slightly. The line should be changed to "all white men are created equal"._

_Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. All our God given rights. We cry that everyone of us has the right freedom and joy, yet we strip other peoples same rigt. You take away their life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness, and what are you left with? A man held against his will. A slave. A man born with rights in the eyes of your God, but born with nothing in the eyes of your society._

_I did free a slave, a slave that was my friend. He was the father I never got to have. He was the father no white man could ever be. He was one of the greatest men to ever smile at me, and where ever he is, he is free. You will never, never I say, take away his life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness._

_~~I'm going to hell~~ _ _~~I'm going to hell~~ _ _~~I'm going to hell~~ _ _So be it, I'm going to hell. Join me, if you will. Any hell is better than a heaven without love._

 

 

 

 


End file.
